


Paper Birds

by Scylla87



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Death, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Parent-Child Relationship, Siblings, Smut, unexpected love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 176,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla87/pseuds/Scylla87
Summary: After two years of working at Fox River Sara Tancredi has finally found a rhythm and is doing well. She's been clean for going on three years, has a job that she's good at, and friends who support her even if her father doesn't, but all of that is about to change when Warden Pope informs her that the Department of Corrections requires a psychological evaluation of Lincoln Burrows before he can be executed in six months. Meeting the infamous killer has long been something that Dr. Tancredi has both wished for and feared, and now they must come face to face she isn't so sure she has the tools to help him. As the two collide, she must be careful to keep her distance. He is a dying man after all. From the second they meet she must remind herself not to get attached. But that is nothing to what happens when she meets his brother.





	1. Prologue: Two Years Ago

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this story for awhile, and I finally have decided to start posting. A lot of it is written already, but there will be content that I will need to write as I go as well. I plan to try to get this all published as quickly as I can. I always welcome feedback. If there is something you like and would like more of, please let me know. If you don't like something, feel free to let me know that as well. I absolutely love Prison Break, and there are so many relationships I would love to explore from it. This fic is mostly how I have chosen to do that. It's kind of a free for all of angst and heartache with a shit ton of smut (Michael and Sara) and soul searching (Lincoln and Sara). I apologize at the onset, but I love the angst. You have been warned.
> 
> This takes place within the Prison Break Universe but doesn't really cover any of the actual events of the show. Everything (except the prologue and epilogue) starts about five months before Lincoln was originally meant to be executed and takes place over the course of six months. This is still a work in progress, but there are a few things I do know so far/details you should be made aware of going in. (I will update this list if needed.)
> 
> 1) Michael is not an inmate at Fox River at any point in the story (Don't worry, there will be plenty of will they/won't they angst anyway).
> 
> 2) The question of whether or not Lincoln is innocent has nothing to do with him being framed by an all powerful organization.
> 
> 3) The timeline of events is slightly different. It has been 5 years since Steadman was killed to add in time for Lincoln to be tried and convicted (something that the show didn't think about). He has been in Fox River for around 3 years at the start of the story though.
> 
> 4) Also because of math, Lincoln would have still been a teenager himself when LJ was born. Just math facts people.
> 
> 5) Which brings me to ages. I stuck to the roundabout ages given at the start of season one with a few tweaks. Thus: Sara is 28 at the start and turns 29 later on. Michael is 27. Lincoln is 31. LJ is 14 at first then later turns 15. No one else's age much matters.
> 
> 6) Aldo Burrows is NOT Michael's father. Both brothers are aware of this.
> 
> 7) Christina Scofield is dead (I will one day deal with the implications of her faking her death, but this is not the story. There is still plenty of angst surrounding her though). She died when Michael was 8 and Lincoln was not quite 12.
> 
> Everything else will unfold within the story. (Like what Michael is up to.) If there is anything else that you are confused about, feel free to ask. I will try to explain everything within the story as well as I can. I really hope you guys like this.

Prologue: Two Years Ago

Sara Tancredi waiting nervously for the man on the other side of the glass door to acknowledge her presence. She knew that he was aware that she was sitting there waiting for him, but so far he hadn’t made an effort to talk to her. It left her alone with her thoughts, not always a good thing. This whole experience had been surreal. Looking back, it was easy to see how she had ended up here. She had had a talent for trouble ever since she was a girl, always doing or saying the wrong thing, usually with someone her father was hoping to impress. This was another in a long list of choices she had made since she’d reached adulthood that made things difficult for the governor. God knows what favors he had had to call in this time, but somehow she had managed to keep a hold of her medical license, albeit with conditions. ‘This is the last time.’ Her father’s words echoed through her mind as she waited. He’d made it clear that she was on her own when it came to finding a place to land professionally. Lucky for her that she’s stumbled across this job after months of struggle. At first she had been sure that she’d land on her feet only to discover not a lot of hospitals were itching to hire a junkie, and one who had stolen drugs to boot. But she was clean now. She told herself that once more. In time she’d be able to prove that she was doing better. And she was doing better. Sure, her relationship with her father was more strained now than ever, but in time, he might come to at least respect her choice. Working at Fox River was certainly one of her better decisions considering her long battle with substance abuse. Maybe one day he would see that, see how much good she could do here. Not that Frontier Justice Frank believed in rehabilitation. When she’d told him about this job there had been a moment where she was sure he regretted leaving the decision in her hands, but she no longer wanted his help, didn’t want to be just another case of nepotism, yet again. He’d been working to give her a leg up her whole life, but now it was time to choose what was best for her. This could be good for her.

A quick glance at her watch told her that she was cutting things a little too close. With a sigh Sara knocked on the door to the office yet again. The man sitting at the desk looked up at the sound but did not make a move to let her in. They stared at each other through the glass for a moment before the man rose with a scowl on his face to emit her. “You were told to wait.”

Sara tried her best to keep a smile on her face. “I have a meeting with Warden Pope in fifteen minutes.”

“What do I owe for the pleasure of your visit to me then?” he asked not even attempting to sound pleased.

So this was Dr. Maxwell, her new boss? When Bellick was telling her about the job she had gotten the impression that not everything was strictly above board with the man standing in front of her. But whatever had happened, she’s gotten no further details. His demeanor made her second guess her choice to come. But she was here, so with a smile that was not returned she pulled up a chair. Uncertain how to begin she let her eyes roam across the desk beside her. “I wanted to come by and meet you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” he said. “It wasn’t enough to roll in and steal my job. Which I don’t understand, by the way. Did daddy think it would engender him to a wider pool of voters to have you working here? That doesn’t quite add up. And now you figure you’ll swing by to rub my nose in my so called mistakes?”

His anger took her aback, the words washing over her but not making any sense. “I’m sorry, I stole your job?” she asked in disbelief. That wasn’t how it had been phrased to her. She’d thought that she was only lending a helping hand.

“Oh don’t play dumb sweetheart; you’re not nearly pretty enough to make it endearing.”

Despite the bad taste in her mouth she struggled to continue. “Look, I don’t know what you think happened, but I had no clue that I was taking someone’s job. I was told that there was an opening, and I applied. My father was properly pissed too. Frankly, you give him a bit more credit than he deserves, always has been more concerned with keeping the base happy than any stunts to reach across the aisle. The way he sees it, this job is just another way for me to make him look bad. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m something of a master at that.” She grimaced at the thought. “But as I was saying, I was told that you needed a break, wanted to cut back your hours. I don’t generally make it a habit of judging other people based on speculation. Clearly I’m in the minority there.”

If his look before had been sour, it was nothing compared to the way he was glaring at her now. “I am more than skilled at collecting facts all on my own. You’re soft, one of those do-gooder types. And a woman to boot. You have no business here. Everyone knows.” He chuckled to himself. “I told the Pope hiring you was a mistake. Knew the second I heard your application came across his desk. If he was going to push me out because of fabricated complaints from some of the lowest lifeforms to walk the planet, he could at least hire someone competent to replace me. But no, he stuck us with you. What can you expect, right? The man’s too soft on the fucking reprobates himself.”

Sara shook her head and rose from her chair. “I thought you were here to revel in my downfall,” Dr. Maxwell spat.

“No, I think I got all I needed to know,” Sara replied as she stormed out of the room.

Her mind raced, unable to stop from coming up with more and more vicious comebacks for the horrible man she had just left as her feet carried her further and further away from him. She has gotten halfway down the hall before she remembered that she had no clue how to get to the warden’s office. Luckily she saw the guard who had escorted her up to the infirmary waiting for her. Another guard stood beside him, and the pair was deep in a conversation that abruptly stopped the second she got closer. “Sorry that took so long,” she said as nonchalantly as possible,

The man gave her a shrug. “No skin off my nose. Maxwell give you a proper welcome?”

His tone was grating. Clearly he had known exactly how she’d be received and had done nothing to forewarn her. Maxwell’s words of warning hit her as she stood there. ‘You have no business here. Everybody knows.’ Was that why this guard had thrown her to the wolves? It took a tremendous effort to keep herself together, to not show weakness. “He was very helpful, in fact. I would have stayed longer, but I’m running late for my meeting with Warden Pope. Do you mind showing me the way? Haven’t quite gotten the layout down yet.”

There was a long pause where she could only guess what the two men were thinking. The one who’d brought her here seemed disappointed that she hadn’t broken, but the other seemed to be sizing her up, reassessing what he believed about this new addition to the prison. It was the second officer that spoke. “I can show you. Jenkins here has business to attend to elsewhere.”

The last comment was pointed enough to be deadly. Sara made it a point to study the pair closely. She had initially taken them for friends from afar, but now that she was closer she thought that one guard must outrank the other. And it wasn’t an easy boss/subordinate relationship either. Jenkins clearly didn’t appreciate being ordered about by the other man. He scowled deeply and left without another word as she made a mental note of all she had observed. “I’m sorry for him,” the other officer said.

“Which one?” Sara asked without thinking.

“Both of them.” She got the impression she was being watched closely by the man and was careful not to react to the scrutiny. “You’ll need a thick skin if you plan to work in this place,” he informed her after a moment.

“I’ve been getting that impression.” She took a moment to weigh her words. “I guess I assumed that would pertain to the inmates more than my coworkers.”

He gave her another once over. “I’m Patterson, by the way. Louis Patterson.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, taking the hand he held out for her to shake. “I assume that you already know that I’m Dr. Sara Tancredi,” she added as an afterthought.

They shook hands briefly before beginning the journey to the warden’s office. A deep silence spread between them as they walked, and it wasn’t until he arrived that she heard him speak again. “Dr. Tancredi here has a meeting with the Pope,” he said to the woman sitting behind the desk.

The woman looked between the two of them carefully, making Sara think there was something hidden in that gaze she would have to work to figure out. “I will let him know that she’s here. Thank you for give her a tour Louis. We wouldn’t want the young doctor getting lost.” She turned to Sara without a smile. “You may have a seat,” she added in a clipped tone.

Sara did just that, picking a seat far from the secretary’s direct eye line. Officer Patterson gave her a small nod as he left her in the care yet someone else. So far she hadn’t been making a great first impression with her new potential coworkers. Here she was, waiting to meet her boss for the first time, and already at least two of her coworkers were less than thrilled to have her on board. And that was to say nothing of everything that had happened with Maxwell. All in all, she was beginning to question her surety that working at the prison was a good idea. Sara shook her head. Now was not the time to dwell on her doubts. She had already gone through the rigorous Department of Corrections interview process and couldn’t just give up now, not without even try out the job. The secretary’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “You can go in now.”

“Thanks,” Sara muttered with a sideways glance as she rose. The woman wasn’t looking at her. She thought to try for politeness, a better impression. “I’m Sara. It is nice to meet you by the way.”

The look she received was cold. “Don’t you think you’re already late enough?”

Sara gave a little nod and walked to knock on the office door before entering.

The man behind the desk was older than she expected, certainly older than even her father. It took her aback for a moment. She had been expecting someone else from the way the DOC described him. “You must be Dr. Tancredi,” he said pleasantly. He even came around his desk to shake her hand. “Welcome to Fox River. Schmitt said you’d gone through security, and I was starting to fear you’d gotten lost on the way up here.”

“Sorry about being late. I went by the infirmary first.” She worked hard to keep her tone neutral but was pretty sure she was unsuccessful.

The response clearly gave the warden pause. He gave her a long look before responding. “Why don’t we have a seat?” He gestured to a couch and chairs against the wall. It took Sara a moment before she accepted. Once she had sat, the warden took the seat opposite from her and cleared his throat. “I am happy to have you on board. The DOC seemed to think of you highly, but I wanted to have this opportunity to speak with you to make sure that you were a good fit.”

The words made Sara shift uncomfortably. This was what she had been afraid of. She knew that she needed to get through one last interview with this man before she would officially have the job. Even though both Bellick and the DOC had assured her that it was practically a formality, she was still uncertain of her chances. “I appreciate you taking the time to have me come in,” she replied after much consideration.

“Of course.” He gave her a small nod. “So tell me, what brings you here to Fox River?”

“I wanted to help people. I felt like I could really do some good here.” The warden’s expression was unreadable. There was something in the way he looked at her that had Sara struggling to find the words to explain herself. “I guess… I’m not sure how much… We all have… I wasn’t entirely honest with the Department of Corrections about the nature of how I left my past job.” The words were out of her mouth before she could consider them.

The confession clearly had an effect on Warden Pope. He shot her a curious look but didn’t respond. “It wasn’t anything bad. Well, it was bad, but not…” She shook her head. “I had some personal issues that I needed to work through, like I told them, but I did not go into the details of what they were. I may have made it sound like the environment wasn’t the right fit. Honestly, I didn’t think they would recommend you hire me if they knew, and I really feel like Fox River is where I need to be at this point in my life.” She folded her hands together in front of her and tried to look composed.

“Are you seconding guessing that decision?” He gave her a moment before he went on. “Sara, if I may call you Sara,” he said carefully, “when I first saw your application, I wondered if maybe I could guess at what had happened.” He frowned deeply. “When I saw that you had been referred by Captain Bellick, I suspected where the two of you might have met. I don’t make it a habit to discuss other people’s personal business, but in this case I assume that you are already aware that Bellick has some demons of his own. I don’t fault him for them.”

The confession gave her pause. When she didn’t say anything he went on, “You are right that some at the DOC would have been hesitant to hire you under the circumstances, but I have always preached rehabilitation over punishment. Plus, I think, as I suspect that you do, that having you on the staff might be beneficial for some of the inmates. But if you no longer feel that Fox River is the best fit, I don’t want you to do anything that would cause you any issues.” He looked at her intently for a long time. “I try not to pry into the personal lives of my staff, of course, but I have a job where invasion of privacy is the norm. That can make it difficult at times to respect boundaries.”

She sighed deeply. “I’m not in danger of relapsing or anything, if that’s what you’re very carefully trying not to ask.” She laughed nervously for a moment. “I just had a, not a bad day per se. I’m honestly not sure how to explain it. The simplest version is that I have become unsure if I can work here.” She paused uncertainly. “I guess that I wasn’t really clear about what job I was applying for. The DOC said there was another doctor, and I thought that we would be working together, but when I went by the infirmary I got the impression that that isn’t the case.”

“From Dr. Maxwell?” Sara was glad that was the part of her speech the warden clung too.

“Yes. He did not react well to my inquiry. He also eluded to somethings regarding how I came to work there. Some complaints lodged against him. I know that I can’t really ask you to disclose personal information about him to a prospective employee, but I was curious if you could explain to me why um, you are looking to replace him.” Her brow furled as she trailed off.

The question obviously made the warden uncomfortable. He shifted a little in his chair. “Has Bellick said anything to you?”

“No. He only told me there was an opening on the medical staff. Neither he nor the DOC mentioned that I was taking someone’s place. I went by the infirmary to meet what I thought was my direct supervisor. Instead he accused me of trying to steal his job and suggested that I wasn’t qualified to take his place.” She choose in the moment to leave out his insinuation that the same was true of the warden.

Pope frowned. “Obviously, what I can say is limited, as you acknowledged, but there are incident reports that you will be able to access if you take the job.” He looked around the room uncomfortably. “Dr. Maxwell has worked at the prison for a long time. He actually predates me, in fact. He did not have a spotless reputation even back then. A lot of it was grumbling form a discontented few. At least that was how I choked it up in the beginning. The longer I have been at Fox River, the more my opinion has changed.” He looked around the room again. “You have to remember the source. You will hear that a lot working here. And that’s what I was often told when I made my opinions known to my superiors. But inmates are not actually that prone to report staff, and the number of complaints was rising. I began to suggest that maybe we should lighten his load a bit. Maybe he was burnt out, needed some time away. He has often worked seven days a week. That can wear you down over time. I suggested that we hire someone to fill in on the weekends or a couple days a week to give him a break. But funding is short for that kind of thing, and it was difficult to get agreement from the DOC. Still I tried relentlessly. I believe that a large part of my job is protecting the inmates, not just keep them in. So when the incident with Burrows happened, I changed my tactics.”

The name was unexpected. “Lincoln Burrows?” she asked without thinking.

The warden shot her a scrutinizing look. “Yes. Is there a problem?”

“No. No,” Sara said, quick to shake her head as well. “I was just surprised; I had forgotten he was an inmate here. You wouldn’t think they would keep someone like that in your backyard.” She paused at the guarded look Pope’s face. “Infamous, I mean. I just would have thought that they would have put him somewhere else given what he did.”

There was a heavy silence that followed her words. Finally the warden spoke. “You certainly have a point, but his crimes weren’t federal. This place is about the worst they could do at the state level. Though I try to make this place livable. These men have been left in my care, and I do all I can to help them. That is why you’re here. Ultimately, as long as who I hire can pass the DOC vetting process, I can hire and fire whomever I want. Unfortunately I have little cause to fire Maxwell without a suitable replacement. If I do, he could sue; which could get tricky. The complaints against him are all relatively minor. Except for Lincoln. Who won’t talk. And the witness to the incident has chosen to remain anonymous. The DOC warned me there could be issues if he sued, but I cannot sit back and do nothing. In the end, I decided to start looking for someone else despite the risks. He did not appreciate my decision to let him go, especially when he heard I was considering hiring you to replace him.”

Sara took that in. It was all rather more than she thought he would say under the circumstances. She still thought to press her luck. “What exactly happened between the two of them?”

He sighed. “I wasn’t present, so all I can speak to is what ended up in the official report. Dr. Maxwell was performing a routine physical on Burrows. The two of them were left alone in the cell; which was standard. Burrows was in shackles, and he hasn’t shown himself to be violent with staff. There was no reason not to leave the two men alone. Then the two guards that were waiting outside the door heard a commotion and entered the cell. What happened then differs from one statement to another. At first both guards told the same story: that both men were agitated and the meeting ended when they entered the cell. But later one of the guards gave a different story. It followed the original story to a tee but added some details that had been missing. Primarily that it took both himself and his partner to pull Maxwell off of Burrows.” Sara knew she looked appalled at the suggestion. “That is what I thought,” Pope said once he went on. “It was a very serious allegation. He had maybe been a little rough with the prisoners before, but nothing that could have been construed as violent.” They were both silent for a long time. “It wasn’t something that I could ignore even if I wanted to,” the warden said once he finally collected himself. “But it was a sticky situation. I had a witness who refused to go on the record unless his name was kept out of it. Snitches are not popular in prison on either side of the badge. He was not incorrect in his fears. Since nothing was known to anyone but myself, and that includes Becky, the others were forced to guess which one had talked. One of them was not particularly popular before, and he became the scapegoat. He no longer works for the prison. His choice to leave was taken as further proof of his guilt, but he wasn’t the one who talked.”

Sara thought about that. “I take it that he never told anyone that it wasn’t him.”

Pope shook his head. “I have no doubt about that.” He settled back into his chair thoughtfully. “I suspect that he wanted to come forward but didn’t have the guts to do so. He covered up that act of cowardice by not telling on the person who was brave enough to talk.”

“Honestly, I don’t fully understand how Maxwell has a job at all under the circumstances.” She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. “Why is he still here?”

“The inmates still need medical care while I’m looking for a replacement. It is a great regret of mine that I haven’t been able to send him packing,” the warden replied sadly. “Without the officer making his statement public, the DOC made it clear that without evidence I didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. There was a big speech about being able to confront your accuser if I recall. They suggested that I get a statement from Burrows. Which I had been reluctant to do, because I knew how that would go. As I suspected, he did not wish to say anything, did not wish to press charges.”

“He couldn’t,” Sara cut in.

Pope nodded. “I attempted to explain that to the DOC, but they felt that if he wanted to talk he would have. Without his statement, my hands were tied. But when I saw him, I knew. I knew. So I did the best I could, I have limited Maxwell’s exposure as much as possible in the meantime. He’s going quieter than I suspected he would. I had hoped the DOC would be more help, but they are more afraid of a wrongful termination lawsuit than protecting a man on death row. I tried to make them see that he was a liability, that next time it might be someone who would garner more sympathy.” His mouth opened and closed as he struggled for words. He looked completely at a loss for how to go on.

Sara sat there in the silence. The idea that she had even considered trying to back out of the job. He seemed to realize what she was thinking. “But I don’t want you to think that you have to take the job if you feel like you shouldn’t. You’ll need to be sure this is something you can do.”

She turned the idea over in her mind. “No. I’ll be fine. I was just a little rattled.”

“You’re sure that you’re fine?” he asked.

She nodded, her smile for sure feeling like a grimace now. “I’m sure everything will be okay.”

Her hands shook a little despite her words. “You have to be sure. If you think that Dr. Maxwell was unpleasant, you might not be up to the task. I don’t say that to be patronizing. I am sure that you are more than capable, but there are realities of this job that you might not be ready to handle. The inmates, for example. They will be inappropriate with you; that I am certain of. You are an attractive woman, and there are not a lot of women here. That will play into how they treat you. Some of the guards may not be pleasant either. Know that you can come to be with any concerns and complaint. I will do whatever I can, but there are limits to what I can do. An inmate gets violent, that I can rectify, but if one of them makes a comment that isn’t appropriate, that I have little control over.”

She weighed her words carefully. “I understand that.”

He watched her for a moment. “I think that you could really help some of the men here, but you should be prepared.”

Sara knew that this was her last chance to back out. “I have a thick skin,” she said even if it wasn’t entirely sure. “I can handle it.”

The warden smiled uncertainly. “Well then, welcome aboard. Becky will give you all the details.”

As soon as she stepped out of the office she made it a point to smile to the secretary. “You must be Becky,” she said as sweetly as she could. “Warden Pope told me to see you about what I need to start work.”

There was no mistaking the sour look the woman behind the desk gave her before she carefully plastered a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course,” Becky said. “I’m the source around here after all.” Her words had an ominous ring to them.


	2. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara Tancredi prepares to meet with Lincoln Burrows for the first time while Michael is clearly up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the first full chapter of the story. I really hope that you guys enjoy it. This chapter kind of serves as set up for the story in a way, but there is plot that happens within it. I have already begun work on chapter two with the hopes of having it up within the next week. There has proven to be a little bit more blanks to fill in with it than I had anticipated, so that is why it will take me a little longer. I am sorry about that. Like I said, I am shooting for an update of this story by the 30th at the absolute latest but will be trying every much to have the next chapter up before then.
> 
> As always, I am ever interested in what you guys think about the story so far, so drop me a line with any questions, comments, or complaints.

Chapter 1: November

The itching was driving him mad. Michael Scofield tried to push it from his mind and focus on what the woman on the other side of his desk was talking about. Generally focusing was not an issue for him, but with recent events he was finding himself regressing to an early time. Now he was back to having trouble trouble blocking out unnecessary distractions, unable to stay in the moment. The urge to scratch his arm was the only thing he could think about, the persistent reminder of the stakes. The last thing he wanted was to mess up the ink by scratching. There wasn’t time to go over it all again if he messed it up. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded how he was running out of time. If he was honest, he didn’t have time to be at work either, but if he stopped coming in that would look suspicious. How was he supposed to pull this off? “Is everything okay Mr. Scofield?” the woman across from him asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He stared at her for a second, trying to remember her name, but for some reason it just wouldn’t come. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he finally answered with a smile. In fact, he had gotten no sleep at all. “What was it you were saying?”

She gave him a shy smile of her own. “The meeting this Wednesday, it’s been moved to one.”

Michael was halfway to nodding before the time hit him. “I have somewhere to be at one.”

He didn’t take the time to elaborate, but a quick flip through her planner seemed to explain well enough. “Right, your brother. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

He was glad one of them had been able too. It was all Michael could think about since their last conversation. He never should have told him. He saw that now. Of course he would say no, try to act tough, but that didn’t matter. This was the only way, whether his brother liked it or not. No, Michael needed to go this week more than any other. To convince him to let him help at least.

She appeared to be unsure whether to go on or not. Why couldn’t he remember her name? Something to do with an animal, of that he was sure. He was usually so good with names, but he kept forgetting hers. Lola! That was it. Like the bunny. He needed to remember that. It was rude to keep forgetting. She was a new addition, one Michael had argued against. He didn’t need an assistant. Especially given… He carefully pushed the thought from his mind just in case she was telepathic. “That’s okay, no need to be sorry,” he said in what he hoped wasn’t too exasperated a tone. “Please call back and reschedule though. I should be back by four if the meeting must stay on Wednesday.” Opposed to rushing back to her desk on the opposite side of the office door she continued to stand there. “Was there something else?” he asked carefully.

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Well, I don’t want to be rude Mr. Scofield…” she began. Why did people always say that right before they say something rude? He’d always wondered that. “I was just wondering if your brother had been sick for a long time.”

Sick? The word sounded strange to him as he repeated it to himself. Had he told her that? Lola was speaking again before he could respond. “That’s why you go to see him every week, right, because he’s really sick? At least that’s what Maggie said. I don’t mean to pry, really. Just forget I asked.”

Now he remembered. He had said that once. Maggie was the office gossip. And of course she had noticed that Michael disappeared from work at the same time every Wednesday. It had been an easy lie at the time, if he recalled correctly. She had practically fed it to him. ‘Is he in the hospital or something?’ That’s what she had asked. It was easier to just say yes and stop the prying. Much better than having the whole office knowing his business. Of course, she had only gone and told everyone the lie instead. He tried not to look annoyed. “I prefer not to talk about it,” he said, not for the first time.

“Of course,” Lola said. “Of course. I shouldn’t have asked. Please forgive me.” She looked uncomfortable for a moment, even like she was about to cry. “I just wanted to say that I hope that he gets better soon. I know what it’s like to lose a brother. Mine died when we were kids, leukemia.”

The confession caught him off guard, making him feel like an ass. Here she actually knew what it was to have a dying brother while he was just pretending. ‘But your brother is dying,’ a voice whispered in the deep recesses of his mind. He pushed the thought away. What was he supposed to say to her? “I’m very sorry to hear that.” It was the only thing he could think of in the moment. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

She shook her head. “No need to apologize. I was prying into your personal business. I’ll just go reschedule the meeting.”

She was out of the office before Michael could respond. He gripped the arms of his chair, willing the itch along his forearm to recede to no avail. The annoyance filled his mind again as he stared at his assistant through the glass door. ‘I know what it’s like to lose a brother.’ The words echoing through his mind were like a knife to the gut. It might be time to step up his timeline.

***

As she waited to be admitted into the warden’s office, Sara Tancredi felt more than a little like a misbehaving child. In the two years that she had been working at Fox River, she had never been called in to see the Pope. As she sat there, she attempted to rack her brain for what she might have done to lead her into trouble this time. Nothing specific came to mind. For once things appeared to be working out for Sara. Clean and with a stable job, she thought everything was finally coming together like it was supposed to. Sure, her relationship with her father was more strained than ever, but in time, he might come to at least respect her choice. Working at Fox River was certainly one of her better decisions considering her long battle with substance abuse. Maybe one day he would see that. But not if she suddenly got fired for some unknown reason. She twisted her fingers together. What could she have done to have caused this?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the warden’s secretary trying to get her attention. Sara hadn’t even noticed the woman exiting the inner office. “Warden Pope can see you now,” Becky said with a smile.

Sara rose from her seat, careful to mask her uncertainty. Surely that wasn’t a good sign. As far as she knew Becky continued to hate her just as much as the first time they had met, so hopefully the smile didn’t meant that she was about to get fired. All that she could hope was that her hand didn’t shake as she pushed the door open.

Nothing much had changed since Sara had first been here two years before. Everything was neat and clean, functional but comfortable. Warden Henry Pope was sitting at his desk as she entered. Just like the rest of the office, the desktop was free of clutter. The only item out of place was a file lying directly in front of him. Her eyes locked onto it for a moment, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She’d been here before, the one lone file ready to pronounce her fate. He had always been very friendly every time they had interacted. She still remembered the first time they met fondly, but somehow she didn’t think that was going to save her from whatever she had done. Tentatively she took a step forward, closing the door behind her with a click. If she was showing her nervousness at being summoned here, he didn’t acknowledge it as he rose from his seat and gestured to the chair across from his own. “Dr. Tancredi,” he said pleasantly. “Please have a seat.”

Sara walked across the room and sat in the chair he indicated, careful not to glance at the file resting on the desk, but she couldn’t help but notice his grave expression. Racking her brain gave her no clear course of action as to how to begin the conversation. Instead she choose to start with a simple, “You wished to see me.”

“Yes,” he responded. He looked even graver suddenly, which couldn’t be a good sign. “I have something that I need to discuss with you.”

He failed to elaborate further. It left Sara sitting there uncertainly. Was he going to say something? Was she supposed to ask? “If there is something that I have done…” She let the question kind of hang in the air. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to broach the subject, but it was done. Hopefully they could get this over with quickly.

Pope looked at her, uncertain himself. “It’s difficult,” he began. He cast his eyes around the room nervously. “I’m not sure how closely you follow the news,” he said at last, “but Lincoln Burrows recently appealed his case.”

That was not at all where she thought this conversation was going to go. Did he call her here to talk about one of the inmates? “I saw that,” she conceded. She tried to keep her expression neutral. Wherever this was going, she wanted to be ready for anything. “It was denied, right?”

“It was,” he acknowledged after a long pause. “It was his last appeal, so the Department of Corrections has set a date. For his execution.”

Sara leaned forward a little in her chair at the pronouncement. There was an odd look in the warden’s eyes as he looked at her. “Doctors don’t take part in executions,” she said with an uncertain edge to her voice.

He looked extremely uncomfortable. “That is not true, strictly speaking. There are a few duties connected to the execution that a doctor is required to perform moving forward. The first is a physical and psychological evaluation.”

That he would ask her to perform such a duty didn’t make much sense. “I don’t know if I’m the right person for the job,” she pointed out. “I’m hardly a licensed psychologist.”

The comment got her an awkward look. “The evaluation doesn’t have to be overly in depth. We just need to know whether or not he is suicidal. If I read your file correctly, you completed a psych rotation. Some of the inmates you have spoken with have shown real progress; I’m sure you would be more than qualified to handle something like that.” He paused significantly and leaned across his desk. “Look, Sara, I know that this is difficult to contemplate. Burrows is not the first of my charges to face the chair, but that doesn’t make it any easier. For now you would only need to sit down with him once. You’ll take his vitals and assess his basic mental state. After that there will only be one physical a month until the very last month when he’ll need weekly physicals. Then there would of course be an additional psych eval right before the execution. Traditionally all of this is performed by the primary doctor at the prison, but you can say no, if you feel uncomfortable. I will find someone else if that’s what you want me to do.”

There was a long pause while she tried to consider the situation. Somehow she had managed to avoid meeting Burrows prior to this point. This was certainly not the way she had imagined she would meet him. Though now that she considered it, she probably should have known that she would be required to take part in his death. “How long does he have?” she asked, stalling for time.

“Six months.”

Sara nodded. “And when do I need to do the evaluation?”

Pope leaned back in his chair. “The DOC wants it as soon as possible. It’s all up to you of course, but I would advise getting it out of the way as quickly as possible. It doesn’t have to be today, so take a few days to consider it. When you know if you’d like to sit down with him, let Becky know so I can prepare Burrows.”

She thought that one over for a moment. “Friday,” she said. “That way I have a little bit of time to go over his file. So they’ll, what, bring Burrows to the infirmary?”

The warden shook his head. “Unless it is necessary Burrows never leaves his cell. You’ll conduct the interview there. He’ll be in shackles the whole time. You do have the option of requesting one of the guards stay with you if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

That took a little bit of digesting. She had been alone with violent inmates before, but even still, she had to consider it. “No. I’m sure the shackles will be fine. Is there anything else?” she asked, hoping her unease wasn’t obvious.

“Not unless you have any questions for me.” He waited for her to shake her head before going on. “You have full access to all the files we have on Burrows. This is his disciplinary file, and of course his medical file should already be in the infirmary. If you need anything else just let Becky know, and she will get it for you.”

Sara nodded as she rose from her chair. The warden stood up as well. His face was concerned as she made her way toward the door. Becky looked up as the door closed with a snap. Her gaze showed an overdone look of worry. Always trying to play the concerned coworker even if it was clear how she really felt. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sara replied. It wasn’t strictly true, but she assumed correctly that Becky wouldn’t inquire further.

“Well you let me know if I can help you with anything,” Becky said sweetly. There was something about it that didn’t sit right though, same as always.

Sara started to head out but turned back around before she’d managed to cross the room. “Hey, you know anything about the visitation logs?” The question hung in the air as the words spilled from her mouth in a rush.

Becky looked puzzled as she turned around. “What about them?”

Sara tried to keep her voice even. “Am I allowed to look at them?”

Becky frowned. “No such thing as privacy in this place. I’m sure you could take a peak if you wanted. Just ask whichever guard is stuck at sign in.” She surveyed Sara for a moment. “Though I can’t see why you might need to see them, I’m sure the warden wouldn’t mind.”

There was an icy edge beneath the surface that Sara had become used to encountering by now. “I thought it might be helpful to see who has been visiting Burrows.”

The sour look on Becky’s face was hard to ignore. “I suppose people come see him. There’s no accounting for taste.” She made a show of going back to her overly helpful self. “Anyway, if you must, go down to the visitation desk. I’m sure they can give you all the information you may need.”

Sara couldn’t manage to find a way to respond to that. She merely said, “Thanks,” and continued on her way.

***

Lincoln Burrows stood with his back against the far wall, waiting for the cell door to open. Standing there he couldn’t imagine why the Pope would come to see him personally, but it was better to just play along with whatever was going on than ask too many questions. He was careful to keep his hands in full view as the warden entered slowly, followed by two guards. “I was hoping we could talk Lincoln,” Warden Pope said. “I was also hoping that it won’t be necessary to put on the handcuffs.”

Lincoln nodded. “I’m cool.”

The warden looked around the cell for a moment before focusing his attention back on the inmate in front of him. “I received your request to be allowed to continue on your work detail. I plead your case to the DOC, told them you had been a model inmate for three years, but they said no. I am truly sorry Lincoln.”

One of the guards scowled at that, and Lincoln got the impression that the warden was watching him carefully, waiting for him to do something drastic. He struggled to keep his head. “I appreciate that you tried,” he said as he struggled to keep his voice level. “And that you took the time to come tell me.” There was no use getting upset at the Pope. If he said he’d tried, he must’ve. The warden was straight up like that.

For reasons he couldn’t guess at, his words appeared to make the warden even more uncomfortable. “I actually came for another reason as well.” Warden Pope paused for a long moment. “The DOC wants the prison doctor to come see you, to evaluate your mental state and make sure you’re healthy.”

Lincoln worked to process that. His last meeting with Dr. Maxwell came readily to his mind. He knew that he needed to tread carefully with his response. “I feel fine,” he said simply after much debate over the words. “No reason to waste the doc’s time.”

Pope looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid that it’s mandatory. I would appreciate if you would cooperate.” He sighed deeply. “I know that there was an issue before, with Dr. Maxwell, so I have always respected your desire to be left alone. Please don’t make me regret that by upsetting Dr. Tancredi.”

“Tancredi like the governor?” he asked without thinking.

The question clearly gave the warden pause. He stared a Lincoln for a long moment before answering. “She’s his daughter.” When Lincoln didn’t respond he elaborated, “In that case, she will be here on Friday. Since doctor patient confidentiality prohibits one of the guards to be in the room unless there is cause to believe you might be violent you will have to be in shackles the whole time.”

Lincoln nodded. After a moment Warden Pope nodded too. The three men left the cell without another word, leaving Lincoln alone with his thoughts. He sank onto the bed and played the conversation over in his head as he contemplated his impeding meeting with the governor’s daughter.

***

Sara made the trip back to the infirmary as quickly as possible, glad to find that there was no one waiting to see her. It was always hit or miss whether she was going to be busy or not. Some days it was easy, business as usual. While other days she found herself unable to sit down for even a moment. It looked like this was going to be one of the less crazy days. Everything was relatively quiet as she looked through the filing cabinet until she found what she was looking for. She had just sat down to look over the medical file they had for Burrows when Katie Welch walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the desk. “Looks like you weren’t fired after all,” she said as way of greeting. “How’d it go with the warden?”

Sara looked up at her and sighed heavily. “Fine I guess. Though I’m still positive that Becky hates me.” Without given her friend a chance to comment she picked the file up off her desk and displayed it for the nurse. “He wants me to evaluate Lincoln Burrows. Supposed to meet with him later this week. I was just trying to see what I could learn about him in the meantime.” Katie looked at the file like it might bite. There was something there that made Sara nervous. “Is there something that I should know?”

Katie looked uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t know anything first hand. I’ve maybe encountered Burrows a handful of times in the three years he’s been here, and he was normal, I guess. I didn’t get too familiar or anything. He got brought in a few times in the beginning for fights and stuff. I would patch him up, and that was that. There’s just no telling what he might do though. Like I said, nothing happened the few times I met him, but I guess Burrows was just always on his best behavior with me or something. Just look at the number of disciplinary problems he used to have. Eventually the guards had had enough of him starting trouble and put him in solitary, and after that Maxwell said that Burrows tried to take a swing at him. Sure Maxwell was an ass, but hitting him was completely over the line.”

Sara thought that one over. She decided not to comment on the issues between Burrows and Maxwell. Warden Pope had made it sound like she wasn’t to talk about it, and so far she had kept to that even if Katie was the best friend she had at the moment. “It’s my job though.”

Her friend scoffed slightly. “You know damn well this place can survive without you,” Katie sighed. They had had this conversation before. “You can’t let yourself get too wrapped up here. If you’re not careful you’ll let yourself get worn down, and soon enough you’re going to turn out like Bellick.” She cast a quick look around to make sure they were somewhat alone. No one appeared to be paying them any attention. “Not that he’d mind if you were a little bit more like him.” She shot the doctor a significant look.

This was not the first time Katie had posed this suggestion. “I am not interested in Brad Bellick,” Sara replied, also not for the first time.

“But he is sure interested in you.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “He’s horrible. He acts nice when he needs to, but the way he treats the inmates…” She had trouble keeping the disgusted look off her face.

“The pickings are small,” Katie conceded. “Hard to imagine since we’re surrounded by men all the time. Speaking of, did you hear about Louis and Becky?” She said it like it was some big secret.

Sara actually snorted in response. “There are people on the other side of the world who know about that! They’re doing an amazing job of keeping it a secret.”

It had been a long time since she had had someone to laugh like this with. It was such a trivial conversation, an affair between one of the guards and the warden’s secretary, but as Katie wiped the tears from her eyes, Sara couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. “What about outside of here then?” Katie asked as she got herself together again. “We should go out, try to find you someone to go home to every once in a while.”

Without prompting the last guy Sara had been with popped into her head. It had ended so badly that she didn’t really want to get into it now. “I don’t have much luck in that department.”

Katie appeared to relent, but Sara knew this wasn’t the last she’d hear about it. “I’ll wear you down eventually. You can’t live your whole life alone.” Katie rose from her seat on the desk. “There’s bound to be someone that’ll break through those walls of yours.” 

Sara nodded. “Maybe another time. I should really read this.” She indicated the file again, trying to subtly let her friend know that the conversation was over.

Katie frowned. “Tell you what, come to lunch with me. That will be here once you come back. It’ll do you good to get out of here for a moment.”

Sara had to admit that she was hungry. “Fine. Lunch. But you’re going to tell me everything that you know about Burrows.”

That didn’t seem to be what Katie had in mind, but she let it drop. “Come on, we should head out if we want to avoid the traffic jam in the parking lot.”

Sara sighed heavily as she got up from her desk. She was silent as her friend led the way. The pair of them had been friends since the moment they first met when Sara first started working at Fox River. It was nice to have someone to talk to at times, but Katie had a tendency to mettle a bit. Not Sara’s favorite thing about her, but she had to admit that Katie’s heart was in the right place. Maybe she was right about the overwork anyway; Sara hadn’t had a proper day off in weeks. It was easy to make excuses for why she should stay, not go home. She felt useful here; there was nothing to do at home. But she did need a break. Maybe after she’d met with Burrows.

***

Lincoln settled onto the stool and looked through the grate at his little brother. He always had to resist the urge to show his surprise that Michael had come to see him again. Even though Michael came every week, Lincoln always kind of expected one day his brother would just stop coming. Their last conversation rang in his ears as he focused on Michael. Hopefully they weren’t about to rehash it. “How you been?” he asked.

Michael leveled him with a look. He looked so sad on the other side of the barrier. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me do something,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking to the guard behind Lincoln for a fraction of a second.

The look was all Lincoln needed to read between the lines. “I told you, there’s nothing to do. I don’t want to have to worry about you, so you’ve got to let this go. I know you think you’ve got it all figured out, but it’s too late. I fought; I lost. Now I just want to make my peace with it. I can’t do that if you won’t do the same.”

Michael looked on the verge of tears. “I’m just supposed to let them kill you?”

Lincoln sighed heavily. “It’s done. Drop it.” It obviously took a tremendous effort for Michael to nod. “Okay then,” Lincoln said, “tell me what’s been going on with you.”

“Not much.” Lincoln rolled his eyes. “And this is where you try to guilt me into going out more. But I like staying home. A character flaw I know.” Michael managed a little half smile at that. It was there for a moment then gone again. “The lawyer said that they’d taken you off work detail. Is that true? What will you do all day, stare at the walls? It’s not right making you just sit there and wait like that.”

It took a tremendous effort for Lincoln to keep a straight face while his baby brother was obviously in distress. He tried for a little humor to lighten the mood. “I will have you know that I am about to get my head properly shrunk.” Despite himself, Lincoln laughed at the questioning look on his brother’s face. “The prison doctor is set to do a psych eval on me or something. I’m supposed to meet her in a couple of days. That’s what The Pope said. It’ll make sure a change at least.”

Michael stared at him for a second, confusion etched onto his face. “Like deep inner most thoughts? I can’t see you talking about your feelings.”

Lincoln shrugged. “I hear the doc’s pretty. That’s what the guy across from me said. Had to go see her for some intestinal issue. Honestly, I stopped listening at that point. Last thing I wanted to hear about was some moron with the runs. If half was what he said was true, might not be the worst thing to go through the motions. We’ll sit down once, tell her what she wants to hear, and then I’ll never have to deal with her again. Could be worse. The other doctor was a fucking asshole.” He smiled suddenly. “I can scope her out for you if you want. See if she’s single.”

“Excuse me? Are your trying to set me up with someone you’ve never even met?”

“I’m just saying, I can tell her about you. I’ll have to drastically inflate your prospects, of course, but one look at those pretty blue eyes and she won’t be able to resist. I can always slip her your number.”

“No.”

“Come on. I’m just trying to help. I’ll bet she’s your type too. Wants to change the world and all that. Why else would she be working here?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m not interested.”

Lincoln gave the appearance of relenting. “Fine. We will discuss this further once I’ve met her.”

As Michael glared at hi, through the grate, he couldn’t help but smile back at him fondly. “Why do you always do things like this?”

Lincoln shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to spend the last little bit of time I have talking about how I’m going to die. I worry about you, that you’ll close yourself off from everyone once I’m gone.” His smile was fond but a little bittersweet as Michael shifted uncomfortably. “Hey, I’m your big brother, worrying about you is in the job description.”

Michael sighed. “And I don’t worry about you? Let me help.”

Lincoln shook his head. “I need you around to teach my son how to me a man. He’ll learn better from you than he ever would have from me. I know that it’s a big favor to ask, but I don’t have a choice now. So do this for me?”

Michael struggled to meet his eyes. “And you think it’s just that easy? You die and me and LJ are just fine?”

Lincoln shifted uncomfortably “Not easy maybe but you’ll be fine. I have to believe that. Just let me believe that in the little time I have left.” He looked into the distance behind his brother and sighed. “He didn’t want to come I guess.”

“Linc,” Michael began.

“No. No. It’s fine. He needs time. Probably shouldn’t be missing school for the likes of me anyway.” When their eyes met, neither brother had the heart to point out that there was very little time left. “Just tell him that I love him. Maybe he’ll come next time,” Lincoln said instead.

All Michael could do was nod.

***

Sara sighed loudly, sure she had lost her way as she walked down to visitation. With everything going on, she hadn’t had a chance to take a peek at the log yet, but based on what she’d found out thus far, Burrows had visitation on Wednesdays anyway, perfect excuse to see who he was meeting with. But now she had lost her way. Finally she managed to turn a corner and saw her destination. She had hoped that the person manning the desk might be someone she knew, but the man sitting there was unknown to her. That could make things difficult. She stopped in front of the desk cautiously. The words came out kind of jumbled, unsure. To her surprise, the guard didn’t even ask why she needed to see the visitors’ log. Without so much as a word, he fished out the list for that day and handed it to her. She looked through it slowly, trying not to miss his name. It was halfway down the third page, and she traced her finger across the words as she connected it to the visitor that was apparently currently talking to him. ‘Michael Scofield.’ Without removing her finger from the list, she looked up at the officer beside her. “Is it possible to see how often an inmate has visitors?”

The man shrugged. “The list is typed up once a week and achieved. But depending on who it is I can probably tell you myself.” His eyes cut down to where her fingers marked her spot. “Like that guy, for example. He comes every week like clockwork.” He paused, and Sara was sure he was bound to have some half assed remark about it. Something along the lines of Becky’s observations from earlier. To her surprise he sounded sorry, almost sad when he finally continued. “If you ask me, they’re close. Probably related. Don’t get me wrong or anything, Burrows deserves to pay for what he’s done, but you got to wonder if killing him is not basically the same thing. I mean, you got this guy who comes to see him every week, no exceptions. You think he’s gonna feel any different when we flip the switch than the vice president does? He didn’t kill her brother after all.” He looked around sheepishly. “Not a popular opinion around here.”

Sara nodded. “But not one you share alone.”

She looked down at the list again. “If I needed a complete list of Burrows’s visitors, who would I ask?”

“That’d be me actually. It’s mostly just the same two people, that Scofield and the kid, Burrow’s son. There are a couple of others here and there though. I can pull the archives for you, but it’ll have to wait until visitation has ended. Can’t leave my post until then. I’ll bring them to your office once I get them.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said simply.

“Sure thing,” the officer said. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

Sara gave a small little smile in response as she turned to head back to the infirmary and suddenly walked smack into someone else, struggling to keep her balance as they collided. A strong hand gripped her elbow to keep her steady. She was suddenly struck by a pair of piercing blue eyes studying her intently as she looked to see who she had run into. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. She tried her best not to look flustered.

The man smirked in response as he eased his hand from her arm. She tried not to notice the loss of contact as his hand slid away, his voice was distracting enough. “No worries.” He studied her a moment as he spoke. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

She was rambling before she could stop herself. “Dr. Tancredi. Sara. Dr. Sara Tancredi.”

“Tancredi like the governor?” He shot her a curious look she wasn’t she how to read. Her mouth was clamped shut, and in the moment she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to speak. In the end she didn’t need to. “Wouldn’t expect to find the daughter of Frontier Justice Frank working in a prison. And as a doctor no less.”

Not sure how to respond to that, she took the opportunity to take in the man in front of her: burgundy button up, slacks, and dress shoes, high end, well taken care of, not who she would have expected to meet here either. She pushed the question from her mind and was suddenly conscious of the fact that the line behind him was watching them impatiently. “Look, sorry again for running into you,” she said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she added as an afterthought. “Clearly.”

He nodded to himself. “Right. Well it was interesting running into you Dr. Tancredi.”

She hurried past him as he stepped aside to let her past. It was difficult to put her finger on why meeting him had disturbed her so much. She tried unsuccessfully to push him from her mind as she walked away, but those eyes kept coming back to her. All in all, it had been a very unnerving day.

***

The doctor’s face stared out at him from the wall. Seeing her in person had been unnerving, but he was sure that he had handled it well. Meeting her had not been on the agenda today, and Michael hated when things did not go according to plan. He was sure he could salvage this though. If not… The thought was too much to even consider. She was such a big part of the plan. Without access to the infirmary there was no way out of the prison, but the chances that she would remember their little encounter would be slim.

Michael played their meeting over in his head again. He was positive that she had checked him out while they stood there. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. Maybe he could use that. He added the thought to the ever growing mental list he was making. Soon. It was have to be soon. The plan couldn’t wait much longer, no matter what Lincoln said. 

***

Sara did not often venture into this part of the prison. Her eyes strayed to the cells on either side of her as she followed one of the guards down the hall. Some of the inmates looked at her through the little windows cut into the cell doors. She repressed the urge to shutter at the thought of that being your only view of the world outside. The look in their eyes, like she was some sort of exotic creature they’d never encountered before, was unnerving to say the least. She had thought that after two years of working at Fox River she had gotten used to being one of the few women in this place, but now she wasn’t so sure. All those times she had been left alone with violent felons in the infirmary were never as disturbing as walking down that hallway at that particular moment. As she stared at his back, she could just imagine what Louis Patterson would think of her if he knew how much this bothered her, knew she was second guessing her choice to do this. It was hardly a secret that most of the guards thought women shouldn’t be allowed to work at the prison, probably for this very reason. The last thing she wanted to do was give them even further ammunition. It was a struggle to keep her face neutral as Patterson looked at her over his shoulder. “They bothering you?”

She was quick to shake her head. Now was not the time to confess to any kind of weakness. They continued around the corner before Louis stopped abruptly. He turned to face her, serious. “Before we go in we need to go over the protocol.”

A nod was her only response. “I will be outside the door the whole time unless you wish otherwise. Just say the word and I can be in the cell with you. It’s all down to whether or not you’re comfortable being left alone.”

“With a violent murderer?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Louis appeared to size her up for a moment. “I’ve never known Burrows to be violent. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll defend himself if provoked, but he doesn’t generally start trouble.” He said it simply, no question in his voice. “But under the circumstances we must err on the side of caution. Death does funny things to a man, and that man has just been told he only has six months to live. I know that the Pope has already told you that he will be in shackles the whole time.” He paused. “You should be prepared though, remember the job. For better or worse, you’re going in there to tell the state that it’s okay to execute him. It won’t be easy. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Even knowing how the guards felt about women working at the prison, the words caught her off guard. “I see,” she said, hearing the edge in her voice. “Of course the little lady wouldn’t be able to stay professional.”

To Sara’s annoyance, her outburst seemed to amuse him. “Nothing like that. Linc just has a way of getting under your skin. You’ve never met him, right?”

She shook her head.

“Well, he’s not what you’d expect.” Louis paused carefully, taking a step toward her and lowering his voice. “He’s funny and personable and nice. You’ll feel bad for him. Not because you’re a woman but because it seems unfair to take a person like that out of the world. Remind yourself that he caused this. Stay objective or it’ll eat you alive. When he’s dead, it’ll kill you if you let it.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Now, Linc will be interested in you. He doesn’t get many visitors.”

“I saw that.”

“And he only gets an hour in the yard three times a week, by himself. Other than that he spends his entire life alone looking at the same four walls. The closest thing he gets to companionship is the guard that slides his food through a slot in the door three times a day. That doesn’t make one skilled at human interaction, especially when the other person is a woman.” She looked at him sharply. “No disrespect. But he hasn’t seen a woman except behind the cage in three years. He does or says anything that crosses the line you just say, and we’ll end it. Do you want me to come in with you?”

She remembered all the times Katie had tried to talk her out of this before she spoke. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be fine.”

She accepted his nod as a cue that they could continue the journey, but it wasn’t until he’d turned around that she let herself exhale the breath she’d been holding. Their footsteps echoed as they continued to a cell at the end of the hall.

***

Lincoln watched the doctor standing huddled in the corner as a guard rattled the chains that wrapped around his wrists and ankles. She was clearly trying not to show her unease as she looked around the sparse room, taking in the bare concrete walls. She was a lot prettier than he had heard tell about. He took a moment to remind himself of the game, tell her enough to make her go away, no more than that. His voice clearly started her when he spoke, “I did my best to clean my cage when the Pope mentioned you’d be stopping by.” He tried to keep his tone light.

She tuned to meet his eyes reluctantly and was silent for a long time. “Lincoln,” she finally said with a slight nod toward him.

The guards left a tense silence behind them as they shut the cell door with a snap. Involuntarily she jumped at the sound. “You get used to it,” Lincoln said.

He surveyed her from the bed giving her the once over. “I’m Dr. Tancredi. Did they tell you why I’m here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They just said the doc needed to give me a physical. It would be such a tragedy to execute a dying man after all.” He watched her reaction carefully. “So you’re the new doctor?”

“I’m hardly new,” she replied.

The chains rattled as he leaned toward her hunched in the corner. “I don’t get out much,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I had heard rumors though.”

He couldn’t help but notice the small chuckle that escaped her lips. “Yes, I imagine that my reputation precedes me.” Her eyes flicked toward the door for a moment before she approached the bed. “I would like to start by apologizing for the heavy dose of irony we are about to patriciate in.”

“Just doing your job, right?”

She nodded. “Still, letting them know you’re healthy enough to execute was not why I went to medical school.” She shifted uncomfortably, taking the stethoscope from around her neck. “I just need to take your vitals,” she said.

He nodded, holding still as she began. It was an odd experience her being in his space as she checked his breath and pulse and heartbeat. As he suspected, everything came out perfectly normal; no reason to keep him alive. Once she was done she rose from the bed to stand at the foot of the bed again. “I need to get a complete family medical history from you,” she said as she pulled open a notebook to jot down her notes. “Anything hereditary? Your father?”

He shrugged, “Left when I was young.”

“Mother?”

“Cancer. Died when I was 11.”

She nodded and scribbled down what he’d said. “Any siblings?”

“Just the one. A brother. Not sick to my knowledge. That it?” He knew that it wasn’t, but now that she was here he really didn’t want to play this game.

She appeared to consider that. “Actually, part of my assessment is to cover your mental health.”

“There much concern that I’m suicidal?” Lincoln could hear the hostility in his tone. He needed to remember to keep it civil or she would walk right out the door, and the next time he did this it wouldn’t be nearly as pleasant.

“Are you suicidal Lincoln?” she asked seriously.

He gave the notion some thought. “I’d be in a pretty unique position if I was. Why kill myself when the state has been so kind as to offer to do it for me?”

She held his gaze for a moment. “And it’s that simple for you?”

“I’ve made my peace with it, if that’s what you want to know.”

Sara wrote a quick note in the pad she held. “Lincoln,” she said as she looked up again. “You don’t need to pretend with me. Your own death is not an easy thing to make peace with.”

“Speaking from experience as you are.” He was more careful to disguise his malice that time around. 

“We’re all dying, right?” she responded. “One day at a time.”

“Some of us more quickly than others.”

She nodded. “But that brings us back around to the subject at hand. How do you really feel? I promise not to ruin your street cred on the cellblock.”

An involuntary snort escaped before Lincoln could stop it. The shackles rattled again as he shifted uncomfortably. She couldn’t help but follow the sound with her eyes. “Does this bother you?” To the best of his ability he gestured around the cell.

“This isn’t about me,” she responded firmly.

“Ahh, it does. Can’t say I blame you? Pretty girl like you forced to entertain the likes of me. Probably just wanting to do your time, get some good karma points or some shit so you can look good in front of your rich friends. Never imagined you’d be stuck in here with me, right? I mean there’s no telling what I might do.” Her expression hardened. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No wait!” he said. “I’m sorry. Let’s start over.”

She inclined her head toward him in acknowledgement. The way she looked at him was unnerving. He struggled to find something to say. “Look, you don’t have to be worried about anything like that. You’re not my type, for the record,” he added as an afterthought.

“I wouldn’t think a man in your position could afford to be picky.” He turned to look at her shocked. The words had apparently surprised her too by the look on her face. “Sorry,” she added.

“Maybe that’s the very reason to picky. Kind of like a last meal, have to choose wisely.” There was a very loaded pause as the words sunk in. “That sounded less offensive in my head.” He glanced at her quickly. “I’m just going to sit here and dig that hole deeper.”

She chuckled lightly. “I’ll let it pass.” She paused for a moment and watched him; he could feel her eyes even without looking at her. “For the sake of my own morbid curiosity…”

This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but assumed that he should play along. The sooner he gave her something, the sooner she was leave him alone. “A girl from my old neighborhood. It was her and me once upon a time, but I was young and stupid. The usual story. I hear she’s getting married soon. I’m glad. Always did deserve better than me.” He worked hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“This would be your son’s mother?” the doc asked without missing a beat.

The question threw him off guard. “My son?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yes. You do have a son, right? According to the visitors’ log there is another Lincoln Burrows that comes to see you. Your father took off when you were little, by your own admission, and according to your file, you’re not a junior. Process of elimination, the other Lincoln must be your son. And you didn’t answer my question.” She gave him what was most likely her best stern glare, but it was clear she wasn’t seriously annoyed with him yet.

“No,” he said. “Veronica is not LJ’s mother. That’s Lisa, but she doesn’t make it past the parking lot much anymore now that he’s older. You probably would have gotten that from your research too if you’d bothered to look.” The doc was quick to scribble down some comment about the exchange. Lincoln made it a point to try and be civil. “Sorry. I don’t want to talk about it. We weren’t exactly on the best terms even before all this.” The chains rattled again as his hands swept around the room as best as they could.

“She does still bring your son to see you though,” Dr. Tancredi pointed out.

“Yeah, reckons the kid should get some fatherly advice while it’s still around.” It would have been hard to miss the hint of sadness in his tone. “He doesn’t want to come.”

She was quick to scribble a few comment about that too. “Does he know yet?” she asked without looking up. Her question was met with a very clear silence. He really didn’t want to talk about that. In fact, he wouldn’t talk about that. “Is that why he doesn’t want to come see you?”

“He’s almost fifteen. What boy wants to hang out with their old man at that age?” Lincoln said with a shrug. He shifted uncomfortably as she let them lapse into silence. It made him want to say something, fill the void. “He’s a very angry young man. Can’t say I don’t understand what that feels like. When I wasn’t much younger than him I watched my mother die, just slowly waste away. I imagine this is pretty much the same thing. I just wish that he could see that he’s only going to end up like this too if he’s not careful.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said that; it was definitely more than she needed to know.

The doc had a look of interest in her eye when she looked up at him. “That’s what worries you, not being around to make sure your son stays out of trouble?” She was looking at him intently, and it was more than a little unnerving.

“Is that what you want to hear, my regrets? I don’t think you have enough paper Doc.” He was obviously losing his battle to stay calm.

“Maybe I’m just trying to understand.” She paused for a moment. “Look, we have to do this.”

“Until I’m dead.” The words were hard to say. 

“Until you’re dead.” The words came out quietly, like they were hard for her to say as well. She took a deep breath before going on. “And in that time we can talk about anything you want.”

“I don’t want to talk about LJ and Michael.”

The name obviously meant something to her. “Okay,” she conceded for the time being, “No questions about your son or brother.” The last word was placed carefully, as a challenge. He tried to keep his face neutral so she wouldn’t assume she had guessed correctly. “But I think you really do want to talk about them.”

“Doc.” His voice was rougher than he meant for it to me. He cleared his throat. “If you’re going to insist on probing the inner depths of my psyche, you may as well sit down.” The suggestion seemed to catch her off guard as he pointed to the table that sat in the corner. It caught him off guard too. Why was he inviting her to stay? He meant to have her out of here by now, but in truth, he really wanted her to stay.

“I think that I actually have everything I need this time around.” She looked to the door.

“No more questions for me then?” He was glad to find that even he couldn’t detect the disappointment beneath his bravado.

She shrugged. “I asked all the questions I had.” There was a very significant pause while she studied him. “Of course, I am already here if there is something you would like to talk about.”

It was his turn to shrug. “You’re the one with the notebook.”

She cast her eyes over to the table in the corner and crossed over to it. As she sank down onto the stool that was attached to it she sighed heavily. “Would you prefer it if I didn’t write down what you said? Because no one will see my notes but me.”

He looked at the notebook now perched in her lap. “Then why record everything I say?”

“Just trying to understand Lincoln. The notes are for me to review later.”

“Kind of like when they interviewed Bundy?” There was a definite curious note to his tone as he surveyed her. “Not that I’m comparing myself to Ted Bundy.” He watched her scribble across the page as he spoke. “I’d appreciate it if you’d make note of that too.”

The doc actually smiled at that. “Does not compare himself to Bundy. Noted.” She looked up at him. “Is that what bothers you about speaking with me, that you feel like a case study? The study of a man who killed the Vice President’s brother. Maybe all of this is just research for a book.”

“Very In Cold Blood of you.” He watched her write a moment. “Are you studying me? I could see that, I guess. True crime is all the rage, at the moment. Not that I’m wanting to be studied. But it begs the question, is this when you start asking for all the gory details? The why?”

“Did the prosecution get it wrong then?” Sara kept her gaze steady, her tone light. She was testing him, seeing what he’d say, but he wasn’t stupid enough to take the bait.

“I’m not going to talk about that,” he responded, a finality in his tone.

“That’s what they all say.” It was a long moment as she straightened up with her back against the metal table. “Do you know how the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI got started?”

Lincoln merely stared at her in response, so she continued on. “By interviewing serial killers. They assumed the best people to go to in order to learn how a killer thinks is another killer. And they used that information to start building profiles to catch other serial killers. Do you know what they discovered all these men had in common? Every single one of them wanted to talk, wanted the world to know what they’d done and why. Even the ones who pretended that they didn’t couldn’t help themselves. And I think you want to talk too. You’re quite the celebrity at the moment, but like a lot of celebrities, you’re completely alone. I get up now, a guard comes in to remove the chains, and then you spend the rest of your day in silence. Let’s not pretend that is what you want.”

He nodded absent mindedly. “There is it, the ultimatum. The FBI used it on many of the killers they interviewed I’m sure. Answer these questions or we get up and go. Very effective interrogation tactic complete solitude. Why is that?”

“The prevailing theory is that we are by nature social creatures.”

“Yet we spend much of our lives pushing people away. Maybe that’s because you always think they’ll be there when you need them. One day you wake up to discover that’s not true.” He looked around the room. “There’s a peace in the silence, you know. Maybe I don’t feel like being pressured into being a lab rat.”

“There are a lot of ghosts in the silence too.”

His eyes flicked back to where she sat. “That what the readers want to know about, the ghosts? All of that really interesting or something?”

Sara watched him as she spoke. “What I find interesting is the money. I keep coming back to that. The prosecution painted a very clear picture of what happened. Heavily in debt you shot Terrence Steadman because he fired you. But they could never come up with a plausible theory as to why you’d borrowed the money in the first place.”

Whatever expression he wore on his face told her too much about what he was thinking. She was looking at him funny, like she saw something she he hadn’t intended for her to see. He didn’t trust himself to speak. “We can come back to that,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I just thought since you’d brought it up…”

“I brought it up?” Lincoln sounded incredulous.

“You’re the one who very clearly did not compare yourself to Ted Bundy. Well, that’s what they wanted to know about Bundy, the why. Why’d he kill all those women?”

“Didn’t they look like his mother or something? Always comes down to the mother.”

“That could be the title of my book.” She kept her tone light but her words left a mark. Hopefully she didn’t see that. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

He took a deep breath and shifted around on the bed so that his back was pressed against the wall. It was revealing just how well he was at moving in the shackles. Something else he was telling her about himself without even having to speak. She sat and watched him, probably trying to see what he would do to lead the conversation away from a clearly touchy subject. To both of their surprise he didn’t change the subject. “Is that what I’m supposed to say, I did it because of my mother? That what they all said when the FBI studied them? Mommy didn’t love me?”

“Some of them. Others very pointedly did not blame their mothers. Which was telling in and of itself. Mothers are a big part of our lives.”

“Meaning?”

She thought over her words for a moment. “Meaning that your relationship with your mother can be very formative. You mentioned that she died when you were 11. That’s a very important age developmentally, the age when a child starts to gain the ability to complex reason.” The look he shot her was somewhat puzzled. “Complex reasoning is the ability to understand that the world is complicated. Simplistically speaking. Prior to that point the world is very black and white, right and wrong. That’s one of the reasons why very young children ask why things are the way they are; they lack the ability to reason things out for themselves or understand the complex details or themes involved.”

He looked at her skeptically. “And that has what to do with Mom dying?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just an observation. As an adult you know that people die, and it’s not really a choice they make. But a child might not be able to grasp that concept. It would be easy to see her death as abandonment, to be angry at her for leaving you alone.”

“She had cancer. She died. It was sad. Sad shit happens all the time.” He looked off into the distance somewhere next to her head. “And I wasn’t alone.”

“Right,” Sara said, “Michael. Your brother. Who you claim to not want to talk about.” She paused. “Not to break your moratorium or anything, just to fulfill my own curious nature, you’re older than him, right?”

His voice was hard as he asked, “Does that really matter?”

“It is a piece of the puzzle,” she said ambiguously.

Lincoln shot her a skeptical look. He was having to work hard not to show how annoyed he was getting with this line of questioning. “It all adds up to something. There are multiple studies on sibling dynamics. Especially in a scenario such as this. You know, father gone, mother dead. You would have basically been the parent. That takes a toll, being forced to grow up like that.”

The chains rattled as he shrugged. “I don’t see the relevance.”

“The sum total of all the parts.” She sighed heavily and set her pen down. “You were effectively orphaned at a young age and left to care for your younger brother. An angry young man, by your own admission. You acted out, got in trouble. Which, I assume, kept you from staying too long in any one foster home. Not to mention your extensive record. You’ve spent the majority of your adult life in and out of lock up. All of this led you to be a very angry adult as well, which kept you from holding down a job, which led you back to a life of crime, which led you back to prison. It all adds together to paint a very clear picture. Your choices led you here, and all the rest is the foundation of those choices.”

He let that sink in for a moment. It was certainly an interesting theory even if he thought it was complete and utter bullshit. “The problem with your theory is that my brother had the same foundation, as you call it, and he turned out completely different than me.”

She was obviously ready for that argument. “That’s where sibling dynamics comes into play. You were both orphans, but as the younger brother he had a parent, you.” With a slight tilt of her head she surveyed him closely. On the surface he looked relaxed, at ease, but beneath he feared she could detect the tension he was working hard to conceal. “Does that make you angry? Is that why you don’t wish to talk about him?”

Her eyes plainly followed the way his jaw clenched at the implication. It took a tremendous effort to keep a level head. “Why would I be angry at Michael?”

“Maybe your anger isn’t at Michael but about Michael. You say he turned out completely different than you. It would be understandable for there to be a certain amount of resentment there. Or is he the one that resents you? I mean, here you are an anchor holding him back, a constant reminder of his shitty childhood, of the person he could have been. And he has to show up every week to see you because like always you’re the family screw-up. After everything you did for him growing up too. Would he even be where he is today without you?”

It would have been impossible for even the least observant person to mistake the look of complete disgust on Lincoln’s face. “I see that I struck a nerve,” she said unapologetically.

“You don’t know anything about my brother.” He struggled to keep his temper in check as he spoke. It would be a bad idea lose his temper now.

“Enlighten me then.”

With a quick glance at the notebook in her lap he watched her pick up the pen again. “You want me to give you the whole sob story? Tell you that I couldn’t help it; that I had a bad childhood? A lot of people have bad childhoods and end up just fine,” he said in the same measured tone.

“And a lot of them end up here,” she countered.

“Maybe that’s what they should have been studying instead of what makes serial killers tick.”

“That was what the FBI was studying. What makes one man act so much differently than another? Why did you end up on death row and your brother didn’t? To many the obvious answer would be that one of you took a gun and shot a man two times in a parking garage, but there are those who would argue that there is a quantifiable psychological explanation for the whole thing.” She let the silence fill in between them for a moment before adding, “They would also say that it’s significant that you don’t blame your childhood for your choices unlike many before you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

The doc took a long time to respond. “I’m not disappointed Lincoln. There are no right answers. You told me that you had made peace with what is to come, but I’m not so sure that you have. I don’t think you’ve made peace with a lot of things. You’re father walking out on you. Your mother dying. Having to raise your little brother despite the fact that you were still a child yourself. I think you still carry around all that grief, all that anger. It’s a weight that drags you down. And add to that all the things that you have to miss now. That causes anger all its own. The woman you love is marrying another man. Your son is going to graduate from high school, meet someone, settle down, and you’ll miss all that. I reckon the person disappointed here is you.”

“But what you want to hear is that all of it stems from my mother, right?”

She leaned forward, shortening the distance between them just a little. “Were you close?” She gave a non-committal shrug when he shot her a pointed look. “You mentioned her, not me.”

He chewed on that thought over for a moment. “No. I guess we weren’t particularly close. They were close though, her and Michael. He was the son she always wanted.” He shot her a look she couldn’t quite read. “He’s smart, my brother. Like crazy smart. Graduated high school when he was sixteen. When I was sixteen I had a kid of my own. Just another of piece of that foundation you keep talking about. But Michael was always the good boy, always the rising star.” The pride was obvious in his voice. “He’s a structural engineer. I’m not even one hundred percent sure I even know what that is. You’d probably like him. Everyone likes Michael.”

“Maybe I’ll meet him one day,” she said absently.

“Oh I’m sure you will in six months or so, and you can say it was me that brought you together.” He gave a bitter laugh.

Inadvertently her head snapped up to look at him. “You got jokes now?”

He shrugged. “You’re right though. An execution is a bad first date. It would be unique to be sure, but I see your point. I’m sure we could work something else out. Dinner? Mini golf?”

“Lincoln,” she said as she tried to manage her laughter, “maybe not appropriate to set me up with your brother.”

“Why not? Boyfriend?” He watched her for a moment. “Girlfriend?” he asked significantly.

“Lincoln!”

“Sorry. I’ve been on death row for three years.”

She rolled her eyes despite herself. “Because he’s your brother.”

He shrugged. “Pity. He could afford to meet a nice girl. Though, nice girls don’t generally work in prisons.”

“That’s right. I’m a spoiled little rich girl trying to get bragging rights at the country club. I forgot. And yet you seem to have no problem setting me up with your brother. Don’t nice guys deserve nice girls?” He had obviously hit a nerve earlier by her tone.

“This is assuming that Michael is a nice guy.” He chuckled at the thought. “Actually he is. He even does charity work when he has time. None of the bullshit do-gooder crap either, real stuff that truly helps people. All a bit nauseating to be honest. But I figure I should sell him as a bad boy if I expect you to be interested.”

Sara shot him an incredulous look. “And why would you assume I like bad boys?”

“Maybe I’m good at reading people. Let me guess, you’re a good girl from a good family who went bad, fell in with the wrong crowd, the wrong boys. You want to make a difference here. Am I close?” He shrugged as she glared at him. “Not a judgement per se, just an observation of my own. Though between you and me, not the place to be working if you’re into bad boys. Certainly not if you’re looking to stay out of trouble.” He chuckled at the thought.

The silence between them was tense. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said abruptly.

“Oh don’t tell me I hit a nerve,” Lincoln said pointedly.

“No. I just have other patients to tend to.” She rose from her seat and watched him for a moment. “I think we should speak again.”

He had trouble masking his surprise. “I was under the impression that this was a onetime thing.”

“I’m supposed to do a complete evaluation of your mental health. I don’t think I can do that in a single interview.”

All that got her was silence for a long moment. “I’ll make sure and clear my schedule,” he muttered at last.

He watched her go without further comment. Once the door shut behind her he tried to think about what he had said to make her intent on coming back. The whole conversation with the doc had been unnerving. Where had she gotten all that stuff she was going on about? The last thing he wanted was to have to go through all that again. For the briefest moment he considered trying to appeal to the Pope to get out of the impending torture, but the thought quickly died in his mind. The warden had made it clear that this was mandatory. There was nothing he could or would do about it. Lincoln was just going to have to content himself to his fate.

***

Sara sat at her desk trying to organize her notes into something that was easy to follow. Things with Lincoln had gone about as well as she had feared. The words that Dr. Maxwell had used to describe his last appointment with Lincoln rang in her head. He had been a lot like she had thought he would be based on what she’d read, combative and hostile, but there was something else beneath all that that made her want to investigate further.

She was suddenly interrupted from her thoughts by Katie entering the room. “How’d it go with Burrows?” she asked by way of greeting.

Sara found there was no easy answer to that question. “It went.”

“That bad? I tried to warn you. What did you talk about?” Katie sat down on the edge of the desk as she always did when she came by to chat.

“Mostly we talked about his family. I actually think I got a little insight into Lincoln. Though he is obviously trying to keep me at a distance. He’s confusing. One minute he’s trying to set me up with his brother, the next he’s implying that I’m just a spoiled little rich girl here for the street cred or because I have a thing for bad boys.”

The rant got her a concerned look. “Should I be worried about you?”

“No,” Sara replied, “of course not. Louis warned me that he’d try to get under my skin. I think that he did the same thing to Maxwell. Though his tactics were probably different. He doesn’t let people in easily. Hard to blame him under the circumstances.”

Katie looked around to make sure there was no one else around. When she looked back to Sara she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did he really try to set you up with his brother?”

“I’m pretty sure he was joking. I don’t think he likes me much. Partly my fault. I may have been none too gentle with some of my questions. He retaliated. Nothing too bad, I guess. It just caught me a little off guard I think.” She was used to a slightly different reaction from the inmates she encountered. In a twisted way, it kind of hurt her feelings. “And not once did he make a pass at me. He even went out of his way to tell me I wasn’t his type.” She laughed a little at the thought.

Opposed to laughing with her Katie shot her a solemn look. “You want to be careful not to get too wrapped up in this. He’s going to be executed in six months.”

“I know that.”

Katie let the subject drop in favor of her favorite topic. “Don’t tell me that you plan to spend your Friday night here,” she said sternly.

For the first time since she had been informed her attendance was mandatory, Sara was glad to have plans. “I’m actually going to my father’s for dinner. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and my presence has been requested.” She shot Katie a significant look. “Maybe it’s a set up. Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll meet my prince charming and all your fears of my becoming a spinster will be dashed.”

Katie laughed at the thought. “You never know what the future might hold.” She shot Sara another pointed look. “I know you don’t have the best relationship with your dad, but maybe this is his way of trying.”

Sara chose to let her continue to think that. “I should probably head home to get ready.”

Katie smiled. “That’s my girl! I’ll see you Monday?”

“See you Monday,” she replied as her friend rose from the desk and left her alone.


	3. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara attempts to make a dent in Lincoln's armor. Meanwhile Michael makes a curious error in regards to his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have done it. Chapter 2 by the end of the month as promised. Hopefully you all like it. I am always anxious to know what you think, so please feel free to contact me with any comment or suggestions you might have. I hopefully got all the typos out. If I missed some, I am sorry. This chapter is a longer than the first; it kind of got away from me a little. I plan to get to work on chapter three tomorrow, but I am not sure how long it will take me to get it up. There was quite a bit that needed to be added to this chapter, and depending on how much needs to be added to finish chapter three, it may take a week or two to get it finished. I promise to work diligently though so the wait isn't too unbearable. Quite a bit happens in this chapter including the first taste of smut in the story. It's a little odd, so hopefully you guys are put off by it. There will most likely be smut in every chapter from here on out. Just a heads up for those that are less prone to stories with the down and dirty in them. This chapter is also, at least I think so, a little more angsty than the last.
> 
> Anyway, I hope that you all like this. I look forward to getting the rest of this finished and up for you guys to read soon. It's turning out to be a monster though. So far the story is 87,462 words, for those of you who are curious. That of course doesn't include the bits that need to be expanded upon. And it just keeps growing. Hopefully you all like long fics.

Chapter 2: December

Michael paced in front of the wall of his home office. It had been two weeks since his brother’s last appeal had been denied, and yet he felt no closer to finding a solution to getting him out. There were just a few pieces still missing that he needed to find before it was too late. The fact that Lincoln knew now, that he objected to the plan only made things worse for him. He could see now that telling his brother was a mistake. In the moment it had seemed like a good idea, a way to give Linc hope. But it would have been better to have waited, just shown up. He was sure that once he had everything figured out, once he was actually in there, Lincoln would see that this was the best solution. There was just no other way to save him now. If he did nothing Lincoln would die. The thought haunted Michael every second of the day. How could his brother just expect him to walk away, do nothing while his life was at stake? He took a last look at the blueprints tacked up behind him as the doorbell interrupted his thoughts.

The boy on the other side of the door looked distracted as Michael opened it. “LJ,” he said when he took him in. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

The boy shrugged as Michael stepped aside to let him in. “I hope it’s okay I came by.”

“Of course.” The door shut with a snap. Michael knew he needed to tread carefully. These days LJ was liable to bolt at the merest misstep. It was painful how much he reminded Michael of Lincoln. Seeing his nephew now made him realize vividly just why his brother was so concerned. There was something off about the boy, something dark beneath the surface. He struggled to find the words to say. “How have you been?” he finally asked lamely.

LJ gave another shrug and looked around the entryway awkwardly. “Fine, I guess. Just going to school and stuff.”

Yes, the boy clearly got his conversational skills from his father. “How’s Lisa doing? I kept meaning to come by, but work has been a little hectic.” The excuse sounded lame. It was lame and partially a lie. Michael hadn’t really known what to say to LJ of late. Seeing him was just another painful reminder of the stakes he was dealing with. Apparently he had said the wrong thing.

LJ scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes. “You’re busy, got it.” He was obviously trying to give off the impression that he couldn’t care less, but his tone was anything but light as he didn’t quite look at his uncle.

Michael struggled to find a way to respond. “You know that I’m always there for you, no matter what, right?” The teen scowled heavily in his general direction. “I mean it. I’m never too busy for you. I should have come by, but hey, you’re here now. We should go get something to eat.”

LJ scoffed his shoes against the floor absently, causing his uncle to wince in the process. They were nice floors. There was another shrug and a barely audible, “Don’t feel like going out.”

Though his nephew wasn’t looking at him, Michael nodded in response. “I can make us something then,” he offered.

The teen didn’t respond to, that leaving Michael kind of at a loss for what to do. “What’s up, LJ?”

The silence that followed the question stretched between them for a long moment. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” LJ finally said. He looked around him uncertainly again. “Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

Michael watched him carefully. The boy stood there close to the door, hands in his pockets, looking just over his uncle’s shoulder. He made no move to enter the apartment further. Whatever he had to say, he didn’t expect it to go well. “What’s wrong?” Michael asked.

There was a brief moment where LJ actually looked at his uncle, but he was quick to look away again. “I uh… I want to change my name.”

The comment was met with a very loaded silence. Michael was unsure that there was anything that he could say to that. At last he replied with, “I see.”

“I knew you’d react like this,” LJ said defensively. “You don’t know what it’s like, okay? You’re not stuck with the same name as him! My name is Lincoln Burrows, everybody knows we’re related. And kids at school…” Something about Michael’s expression caused the boy to trail off.

“What does your mother say about this?” Michael was careful to keep his tone even.

His nephew looked shifty again. “She said no.” he admitted quietly. “But I thought that if you supported me that she might change her mind.” He looked hopeful as he locked eyes with his uncle again, but the look quickly faded away.

Michael weighed his words carefully. It was difficult to find the right thing to say in the moment. How could LJ think that he would agree to something like that? Finally words came to him, though he wouldn’t have imagined he’d ever have said them before that moment. “I’m not the one to ask.”

“So that’s a no?” LJ clarified, already trying to hide his hurt with false bravado. Definitely his father’s son.

Michael took a deep breath. What he wanted to say was too cruel, but he knew that it was the only answer that he could offer. Still, he felt awful. “It’s not my place to say yes or no. If you are intent on doing this, changing your name, covering up a part of who you are, you’ll have to ask your father. If it’s really what you want I’ll take you to see him on Wednesday.”

The shock was obvious on his nephew’s face. “I… I can’t ask him that.”

“That’s your answer then,” Michael replied more harshly than he intended. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Look, I know that this is hard for you. I’m probably the only one that does.”

“Not true,” the boy shot back. “I don’t care about him like you do. He’s already dead to me.” The words came out vicious but at the same time lacked all their bite.

It took a tremendous effort for Michael to stay calm, even knowing the pain the boy was feeling. “You may not realize it, but you don’t mean that. One day you’ll wake up and see that you wasted the last bit of time you had left with your father. How are you going to feel then?”

“You sound like Mom.”

Michael sighed heavily. “You were little, so I don’t really expect you remember that well, but there certainly is no love lost between your parents. If even your mom thinks you should go see your father, shouldn’t that tell you something?”

LJ scoffed. “It was all his fault,” he muttered.

“I am always ready to admit that my brother has his failings…” LJ looked at him suddenly like he was expecting his uncle to start berating his mother any moment, but there wasn’t really anything bad Michael had to say about her. “It was complicated between them, but I’m sure that she was a saint to put up with him as long as she did,” he added playfully.

LJ looked a little more at ease, but something was still weighing on him. “I should probably get home,” he muttered after a moment.

Michael hated to see him go, but the words to make him stay wouldn’t come. “Do you want me to give you a ride home?” he asked instead.

“No thanks. I got my bike.”

LJ barely glanced at him as he pushed through the apartment door and left. Michael stood in the doorway watching his nephew’s retreating back. He was going to have to do something, but in the moment he wasn’t sure what he could do to help him. Once the boy had rounded the corner toward the elevator, Michael finally shut the door and made his way back toward the office, back toward the plan.

***

Lincoln clutched the phone tightly, the metal of the handcuffs biting into his wrists. Hopefully this time there would be an answer. He counted the rings, one, two, and three, before someone on the other side finally picked up the phone. “Hello,” a familiar voice said.

The sound of her voice was a little surprising. “Lisa, it’s Lincoln,” he responded before he’d thought it through. Clearly it was him. How many people did she have call her from prison? “Sorry that was stupid,” he muttered into the receiver. There was a careful silence. It had been a long time since they had spoken, and neither really knew what to say. “How, uh, how’ve you been?” he finally managed to get out.

“Good, I guess,” Lisa answered. “You?” There was another long pause. “And that was really stupid,” she added. “I was sorry to hear…” The rest of the sentence was left unspoken.

Lincoln gave a humorless laugh. “Come on now, you know you’ll be glad to finally be rid of me.”

“Less than you’d think,” she replied. “We do have a kid together, you know. No matter all the rest of it, we’ll always have LJ.”

Lincoln nodded for a moment before he remembered she couldn’t see him. “That’s true. I, uh, I was actually hoping to speak to him. Is he around?” A part of him hoped that the answer was no. At least if his son wasn’t home, he wouldn’t be reminded yet again just how little LJ wanted to do with him.

Fortunately he got his wish. “He went to Michael’s.” She paused for a long moment. “I didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to talk to you,” she added quietly.

“Thanks,” Lincoln said. “But we both know that he doesn’t want to talk to me. Not that I can blame him under the circumstances.”

“He’s a boy and doesn’t know what he wants.” She went quiet suddenly, the line heavy between them. “I could actually use some help with him to be honest. Do you think you could talk to Michael for me?” she asked hesitantly. “I think it might help LJ if he came around again. I get he’s busy and all, but LJ hasn’t seen him in months. That’s been really hard on him. You know that your brother and I don’t exactly get along, so I wasn’t sure how he’d take it coming from me. He might listen to you though, and I bet he could get LJ to come see you even. I’ve been trying, I swear, but he’s stubborn. Gets it from his father.” She ended with a soft little laugh that sounded off somehow, almost like she was trying not to cry.

Lincoln took that all in stride. “I know. I’ve never blamed you for his not coming around.” He struggled to go on. “Look, I’ll talk to Mike. He was working on some big project, I know, but he’s done with that now. Should have some free time to spend with his nephew.”

“Thanks.”

There was a long pause that Lincoln struggled to fill. “I guess I’ll let you go,” he finally said. “Thanks again for picking up.”

“I’ll tell LJ you called when he gets home. Take care of yourself, best as you can in there.”

“You too.” Lincoln put down the receiver with a sigh. He longed to call his brother, but knew that it would have to wait until later. As he was being slowly led back to his cell, he feared he knew what had been keeping his brother away.

***

The waiting was horrible. Lincoln always knew when the doc was coming by the guard putting the shackles on him, but after that he was simply left alone to ponder what fresh torture she had in store for him while she took her time coming down. He knew that that was probably not completely fair. After all, she had other patients to see. But it was difficult to remember when he thought about how he didn’t even want to be doing this. This was going to be the third time she would be coming to see him, and he was starting to suspect that she planned to make this a weekly thing. Something to look forward too. The thought tasted bitter on his tongue as the cell door opened heavily. Involuntarily his head turned toward the sound. The doctor was standing there with her notebook held toward her chest. Lincoln looked away from her with a scowl.

“Good to see you too Lincoln,” she said with a step into the cell. “You can leave us,” she added to the guard at the door. The door swung shut in response.

Lincoln made it a point to not look up as Dr. Tancredi took up her usual spot at the table in the corner. She was obviously looking at him intently as she got comfortable, but he was done playing her games. If she wanted something, she was going to have to get it all on her own. The cuffs were digging into his wrists, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing he was in any way uncomfortable in her presence, even if it had nothing to do with her. Everything that he said or did was nothing but ammunition for her little book, and he had no plans to give her any more than he already had. This time she would be the one to break the silence, he was intent upon it. Let her be the one uncomfortable for once. Maybe then she wouldn’t come back to bother him anymore.

Finally the doc had had enough of his sullen attitude. “Do you intend to sit there and stare at the wall the whole time?”

He shrugged a little, the chains around his wrists clinking slightly. “You hadn’t asked any questions yet.”

“And you didn’t answer the one I did,” she muttered softly.

He pretended that he hadn’t heard her, continuing to stare straight ahead of him. If she wanted to play games with him, he was more than willing to give her the best game of chicken she had ever seen. The last two times she had controlled the narrative, but he wasn’t going to give up control so easily this time. “Is there something bothering you?” she finally asked once she had tired of his sulky silence.

“Yeah, you.” He looked over to her pointedly for a moment before looking away.

All that got him was a deep sigh for the longest time. “Has it ever occurred to you that if you would just cooperate that I wouldn’t have to come back?”

He almost nodded in response, but the only thing she was going to get from him this time was refusal. There was nothing that he wished to share with her. She was surveying him closely, probably trying to read his mind or something. “I’m told you called your son last night,” she said after a careful moment.

The comment made him angry. No matter how many times he had made it clear that he didn’t intend to talk about his son she kept asking, obviously hoping for a different answer. “Are you monitoring my private conversations now?” Without much intention he looked over to her again.

“No more than usual,” she said with a shrug. “Is that why you’re in such a hostile mood today?”

Lincoln rolled his eyes and looked away again. What did she get from all this prying? “I told you, I don’t want to talk to you. I’m not going to talk to you, so you might as well go now.”

The doc stayed seated at the table, looking at him pointedly. “I’ll just come back next week.”

He scoffed softly. “If you insist on continuing wasting your time.”

There was a long moment of silence that filled the cell. After a moment she leaned forward a little and softened her voice. “Am I really the problem? Seriously? If I am, if you don’t feel like you can talk to me, I can discuss with the warden about getting someone else to do the psych eval.”

That was the last thing that he wanted. “I don’t want to talk to anyone. Why can’t I have a say in this?” he asked bitterly. “I don’t have long left, and I have no plans to spend that time talking to you or anyone else for that matter. Can’t I just die in peace?” He glanced at her curious expression, and it upset him more. “Has it ever occurred to you that this,” he looked pointedly around the cell, “that this is the closest that I get to freedom for the rest of my life? This is the only place where I’m not chained up like a dog, except when you decide that you want to amuse yourself. The chains go on then because god forbid I might hurt the spoiled little rich girl coming into the closest thing I have to a home to poke and prod me like something she plans to dissect.” He took a deep breath and glared at her sitting so still in the corner. “Doesn’t that make you feel even the least bit bad about yourself?” he asked, the bitterness back in his tone. “I’m a person. You’re going to kill me one day soon, but for the time being I am still a person. You have no right to be here, ruining the last little bit of life I have left. I want you to go. You’ll just come back again, I know, but for now, I’m done being a lab rat. I don’t care what you tell the warden, just go.”

Dr. Tancredi sat there for a long moment just staring at him. “The shackles aren’t my idea,” she said, apparently trying to make herself sound better than she was.

Lincoln was having none of it. She could make herself feel better on her own time. “Guard!” he yelled instead of responding.

The cell door opened with a creak. “There a problem?”

“Dr. Tancredi was just leaving,” Lincoln replied, looking at the doctor pointedly.

To his surprise she rose without protest and walked toward the exit. But just as she was about to step through she turned back to him. “You don’t really know me Lincoln. You may think that you understand everything about me, but you don’t.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.”

The guard stepped into the cell to remove the shackles, quickly leaving Lincoln alone with the thud of the door behind him. Once he was alone, Lincoln took a gulp of air, feeling like a weight was lifted from his chest. She would be back, and he would have to go through all this again. That much he was sure of. But for now he was free.

***

Sara was still having trouble controlling her anger as she took a seat at the table the hostess led her to. The last thing she wanted to do after her disastrous meeting with Burrows was have dinner with her father. It felt like going from the frying pan to the fire, but she had agreed to this dinner over a week ago. In the years since she had left home she had learned that it was never a good idea to cancel plans with her father. Not that she really wanted to. She saw him little enough as it was, but tonight she was not in the mood. He was running late, as usual, and it only added to her aggravation. With a sigh, she looked out of the window in the distance. The snow was falling softly on the other side of the glass. It was the first snow of the season. When she was a kid she had loved the snow. The first snowfall of the year had always been greeted by a young Sara with her face pressed against the glass, watching rapt as the flakes drifted down. How she would have given anything for that innocence now. The words that Lincoln had said to her had followed her out of the cell and through the rest of her day. If she was honest, she hadn’t really considered what affect her visits had on his daily life. His reaction made her question what she was doing. How was she supposed to help him if her very presence was causing him distress? The thought did nothing to alleviate her anger at him, much to her displeasure. Why did he bother her so much? He was angry, lashing out, that’s all. She shouldn’t let him get under her skin so easily. Their first meeting had left her hopeful. He had been a little surly, sure, but there were moments when she was sure he had opened up a little. All hope she’d once had was quickly dying. Since then he had only been curt and uncooperative and hostile. She was already dreading having to take another pass at him in the future. It was too much to think about. Luckily, the arrival of her father interrupted her thoughts.

Governor Frank Tancredi sat down across from his daughter without a word, giving her a quick appraisal before beginning to look at the menu. For the first time since she had arrived, Sara was glad she had gone home to change after work. He seemed to approve of the choice. “It’s good to see you Dad,” she said as pleasantly as she could.

“Should we split a bottle of wine?” he asked without looking up from the menu.

“I don’t drink,” she supplied simply.

That got her a quick glance. “Of course.” She would have thought that he of all people would remember since he was the one that sent her to rehab. “I keep forgetting,” he added absently.

That your daughter’s a junkie? Somehow she didn’t think that was the case. She wanted to say something about it, but knew that there could be no winning that argument. Better to just move past it. “How have you been?” she asked instead, careful not to point out her surprise he had suggested dinner in the first place.

“Busy,” he said as way of explanation. He sounded upset with her, like she was forcing him away from more important business.

“I would have understood if you couldn’t make it.” She thought that might be what he wanted to hear.

“You said we should see more of each other,” he pointed out.

She had said that the last time they had spoken. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to say? “That’s true. I understand that you’re busy though. I didn’t wish to pull you away from anything important.” Though I’m your daughter; I’m important too. She let that thought go unspoken.

Her father seemed to hear her thoughts regardless and looked properly ashamed of himself. “Of course I didn’t mean I don’t have time for you. After all, you are my only child. We should see each other more.” He gave her another probing stare. “You don’t look well. Is everything okay?”

The question came out a little ruder than she was sure he had intended. He had never been very good at delicacy. “I just had a bad day at work.” The second she said it she regretted the answer.

Governor Tancredi’s expression hardened. “That is your own choice.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“Then the least you can do is not complain to me about it. When you have a proper profession we can discuss it all you like.”

She sighed heavily. “You asked a question, and I answered it. That is all. Why don’t we just order?” it was difficult to keep the aggravation out of her voice.

Her father flagged down the waitress, but the second she was gone they fell into an uncomfortable silence. It made her think of Lincoln despite herself. She racked her brain for something to talk to him about. It wasn’t until their food had arrived that she found something to say. “You said that you’ve been busy. What have you been working on?”

He looked up from his plate and studied her. “I thought you didn’t approve of my work?” he asked suspiciously.

“That’s not true.” It sounded lame even to her. “We may disagree on some things but not everything.”

There was a very loaded pause that followed. “News to me,” he responded with a tight smile, obviously trying for a joke.

She smiled a similar smile and picked at her food. The thought of their last dinner came to mind. “Is it that gentrification project that you mentioned before?” His silence was answer enough. “I’m sorry if I came off harsh when you mentioned it before.”

“You mean when you accused me of only trying to chase off the people who you claim don’t meet my standards?”

Sara felt herself grinding her teeth in frustration. It hadn’t been nearly long enough since he had driven her to that kind of frustration. “I may have been less open to constructive conversation before. There are just many social implications to a project like what you’re suggestion.”

“Which you naturally understand better than me?”

It was becoming difficult for Sara to keep her head. It made her wonder if this was what it was like for Burrows during her probing. No wonder he’d been so hostile. She chose her words carefully. “I only mean that we are talking about people’s homes, their livelihood. Whether they voted for you or not, you are their governor, and it is your job to concern yourself with them, even the ones that fall short of your ideals. Maybe pick a project that will make their lives easier opposed to driving them from their homes when rent in the neighborhood skyrockets after the project is done.”

“Of course you would be on the side of the criminals and vagrants,” he replied with a disgusted look.

“I am on the side of mankind. I think there is a better way than condemning the poor simply because they are poor. Not all of them are criminals or bad people because life dealt them a bad hand.”

He nodded with a scowl. Clearly that was what he had expected she would say. “There it is, the bleeding heart propaganda back again. I would have thought that after two years working in a prison you would have learned that some people are a lost cause.”

Sara shook her head. “Maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t talk about work.”

“When are you going to grow up Sara? I can’t keep explaining away your misadventures to people. Let me get you a proper job. You’ll be so much happier. I can only imagine what you must have had to endure if you had a bad day in that place.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Yet again, I appreciate the offer, but I am happy enough where I am. I’m not going to quit my job because Lincoln Burrows said mean things to me. I have a thicker skin than that.” She picked at her food for a moment before looking up at her father again when the silence became too much. “What? I know that you have all these hopes and dreams that I am going to wake up tomorrow and be the perfect daughter, but it is really unlikely to happen. You might as well accept it and move on. I’m the only daughter you’ve got.”

Frank Tancredi looked angry as he watched her. “Why were you talking to Burrows?” he spit out with as much venom as he could put into the name.

“Because I’m the person tasked with doing the psych eval necessary so that you can murder him. You’re welcome, by the way.” The look of annoyance on her father’s face almost made her laugh, but she was far too angry to give into the desire. “Now, now, don’t get all hurt. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I know that you’d never personally kill someone. You’ll just sit by and do nothing to help them.”

He shook his head at her. “I can’t believe that the warden would put you in the same room as…” He looked too disgusted to even utter the name again. “Don’t worry, I will be having a conversation with him about this.”

“You will not. Warden Pope is my boss, and you are not going to say or do anything that might cause me trouble.”

“You are not allowed to speak with Burrows anymore,” was her father’s only response.

Sara simply nodded. “I believe we both know I am unlikely to listen to you. Why don’t we just drop it and enjoy the rest of our dinner?”

Her father scowled at her across the table. “I think I’m done actually. I won’t sit here and watch you put yourself in danger any longer. He’s a violent murderer, and I cannot sit by and allow you to be left alone with him.”

“I’m hardly in danger. He’s in shackles the whole time, and there is a guard outside of the door.”

“There needs to be a guard in the room from now on. I will be telling the warden that, and that is non-negotiable.”

Sara rolled her eyes again. “It doesn’t work that way. You seriously can’t be that stupid. What do you think is going to happen when people start hearing that my daddy is calling in favors to keep me safe?”

“If things are that volatile with the inmates…”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates,” she said cutting him off. “You will not call my boss and ask for any special treatment. Is that clear?”

Her father threw his napkin down on the table. “Have it your own way then. I won’t call Warden Pope, but I also won’t sit here anymore. I’ll just pay the bill and go.” He rose from the table and walked away before she could respond.

Why had she mentioned Burrows? After everything she should have known better. Now this was going to be yet another ongoing fight she would have to endure for the foreseeable future. Why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut? It would make things so much easier with her father. And after her interaction with Burrows, she could have used a nice easy dinner. Instead there was just more for her to stress over. She sat for a moment staring at her father’s empty chair before she rose from the table as well. All she wanted was to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. Get home, take a bath, and wash the stress away. But her escape was thwarted by a hand on her shoulder.

***

Michael was never one to believe much in fate, but there she was mere feet away from him, Dr. Sara Tancredi. He had thought about this, seeing her again; he just hadn’t considered that it might be so soon. Maybe he was meant to be there after all. When he had finally broken down and agreed to go get a drink with some friends from work he had felt so guilty. He was supposed to be home working on saving his brother. But then he saw her and knew that this must have been meant to be. Was he supposed to talk to her? What to say though? It could be risky. Everything hinged on keeping the plan on the rails. One screw up could ruin it all. Even after his friends had bugged off for the night, he sat there contemplating what to do. Something was off with her. Even from across the room he could see that. She looked so upset that it made him want to go talk to her even more, make sure she was alright. Now that her father was gone, he could go talk to her without it being awkward. Or at least less award. But was that really such a good idea? The question raged in his mind. Going up to her was not a part of the plan, but it could work if he did it right. They had already met after all. This was just a chance to lay further ground work. For the plan to work she would have to trust him. Why not start to build that trust now without all the prying eyes watching? Making up his mind he downed the drink he had been nursing for close to an hour and rose from his barstool. He had taken half a step before he thought to grab his coat, throwing it on like he was on his way out the door. With a sigh he made his way over to where she stood next to her table. He reached out and touched her shoulder, unsure what to say. When she turned to look at him Michael said the first words that came to mind. “I know you, right? You work at the prison?” He left some uncertainty to the question, like he wasn’t sure even though he had thought about nothing else for weeks.

She looked at him for a moment, unsure herself. “I do,” she supplied after a long pause. They stood across from each other for a beat before comprehension crossed her face. “Sorry. I’ve had a long day. Michael, right? You were there to visit your…”

“Brother,” he supplied.

She nodded a little at that. “It’s good of you to visit him. A lot of inmates don’t really have anyone who cares enough to come.” A small frustrated breath escaped her. “Not that it isn’t difficult for the families too. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. I guess I just see things from their side more vividly.”

He watched her for a moment. Her eyes kept cutting toward the door. This was his opportunity if he was willing to take it. “Is everything alright?”

Her head snapped back to him. “It’s just been a long day. And then I had dinner with my father. It didn’t end well.”

“That sucks. You want to get a drink, talk about it?” He could have kicked himself the second the words were out of his mouth. How could he have forgotten? He was suddenly aware of the smell of whisky on his breath. Was she standing close enough to know? She was looking at him curiously, so maybe. He gave her an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to overstep; you just looked like you could use someone to talk to.”

“No, I could. Talk, I mean.” There was something in her tone he wasn’t sure about. “You want to go up to the lounge?” she asked pointing vaguely behind her. “Easier to talk in there.”

Michael’s eyes followed the gesture. He’d never been up to the second story before. Naturally she would have been. Her father was probably a member here. “Sure,” he replied, though he felt a bit like a fraud. No matter how much time passed, he still felt a little out of place, like he was still a poor boy from the south side. So he did the same thing he always did when he found himself in uncharted water, smiled playfully and said, “Lead the way.”

Sara turned and began to walk toward the staircase. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked. She was dressed nice, much nicer than the last time he had seen her. Not that she hadn’t looked nice before, he quickly amended in his mind. As much as he wished it was otherwise, it was difficult to avoid checking her out. She was extremely pretty, and the way her dress clung to her in all the right places only made matters worse. He wondered if she’d worn that dress to the prison. Surely not. That just seemed like a recipe for disaster. Despite himself he watched her ass bob up and down as he climbed the stairs behind her. When they reached the top at last, she tugged the hem of her dress back down her thighs. Blood was definitely shifting downwards despite his better judgment, and despite himself his eyes followed the motion. He needed to stay focused, though at the moment he couldn’t remember on what. All he could do was follow her blindly into the inner sanctum of some of Chicago’s elite. It struck him suddenly that she was painfully out of his league. A girl like that will bring you home to daddy just to piss him off and then toss you out with the trash. Lincoln had said that to him once a long time ago. The thought of it still left a bitter taste in his mouth even years later. Maybe because it had proven all too true. The memory was hard to shake. Sara turned and looked at him over her shoulder suddenly as they rounded the corner to the lounge entrance. There was a playful look on her face that scared him a little. Was this a test to see how far down the rabbit hole he would follow her? He wasn’t sure he knew the answer to that question himself. Before he could speak she turned back and wrenched open the door. He squeezed in behind her reluctantly, sure someone would question his presence. “Miss Tancredi?” came a questioning voice from somewhere to their right.

They both turned toward the voice. A man stood there looking at Sara carefully. The way he was dressed allowed him to blend in with the assortment of men scattered around the room, but the way he carried himself told Michael that he was an employee. An outcast just like him. Allowed to mingle, play the part, but fated to never quite belong. Sara looked at the man kindly. “Felix, it’s been awhile,” she said. Something was lurking beneath her tone that Michael was unsure about.

“It has,” Felix replied. “I had thought you had forgotten how to get up here.” His tone was clear, he had hoped she’d forgotten. What was this place to her?

It was obvious by the set of her shoulders that Sara had read between the lines as well. “I missed the tea, if I’m honest,” she said with a nervous smile. “Would you mind terribly making some?”

“Tea?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“Tea,” she repeated. “I’ll be in the back.”

Michael took that as his cue to follow her further into the room. No one looked up as they passed, but it was clear that everyone made note of their presence regardless. He was certain that she noticed as well, but she gave no outward sign as she led the way to a shadowy back corner and collapsed onto the bench. He had no choice but to sit beside her as there was no other chair at the table. As he eased down beside her, he tried to give her some space. None of the other tables near them were occupied. He cast around for something to say. “Do you come here often?”

Her look was guarded. “Used to.” He had a feeling he knew when that might have been, but he wasn’t supposed to know things like that about her yet so said nothing. “What about you? Ever been up here before?” she asked.

He opted for the truth. “Can’t say I have.” There was a long silence while he tried to steer his thoughts back to why he had started this in the first place. “But you wanted to talk,” he said.

“Did I?” Her voice dripped with mock innocence as she smiled playfully.

“Or I offered to listen while you told me what’s wrong. One of those.”

She was watching him, possibly trying to read him. “I can’t really talk about it actually. Doctor/patient confidentiality.” She laughed for a moment, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Who would have thought that concept would exist in a prison?”

The flash of worry he found himself feeling was annoying. He found himself concerned one of the inmates might have tried to hurt her or something, which was definitely not part of the plan. Pretend to care, that was the game. “Hopefully it wasn’t anything bad,” he said for want of something to say.

“I guess not. Just someone upset about a situation beyond his control. I was an easy target.” She smiled at him thinly. “But tell me about you.”

“Me?” he asked, thrown off by the question. He was in very dangerous territory.

“Yes. You offered to talk to me, and what I want to talk about is you. Are you from around here?”

The question hung in the air for a second while he tried to craft the best response. “Not really,” he finally came up with. Technically not true but also painfully true at the same time. They had grown up in the same city but completely different worlds.

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the return of Felix carrying a tray. “The tea you requested,” he said, a curious note to his tone.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile.

The man lingered for a moment before departing rather reluctantly. “He’s known me a long time,” she explained after a significant pause. “He makes excellent tea but hardly anyone ever orders it.”

Michael suspected that Sara didn’t often order it either. Again with the thoughts about things he wasn’t supposed to know about her yet. “There’s a lot of things people miss out on like that,” he said instead.

The comment seemed to amuse her. “So not really from around here,” she said playfully, “What about school? Where’d you go?”

He assumed she meant college. At least that he could answer without revealing too much about his lower class past. “Layola. You?” he asked though he knew the answer already.

“Northwestern.” She looked around the room for a moment before moving closer to him on the bench. Her thigh brushed against his own. It was very unnerving. She was so close, the look in her eyes a warning all its own. “All part of my plan to ruin my father’s hopes and dreams by becoming a doctor,” she said in a whisper.

“Why? What did he want you to be?” Michael asked at a more normal volume.

“A senator’s wife.” When Sara said it there was a certain bite that belayed her casual tone. He filed that away for later. She leaned away from him to pour herself a cup of tea. “You want any?” she asked absently.

“Not a big tea person,” he replied.

“Your loss,” she said with a laugh. “You never know. You could die tomorrow without having tried any of Felix’s famous tea.” Her expression clouded over suddenly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, even as a joke. I have just been thinking a lot about death recently. Hazard of the job.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked carefully.

An odd look passed between them before she spoke. “I’ve just been spending a lot of time when an inmate on death row lately. Makes one think. Forget I said anything.”

His mind immediately started to fill in some of the details she wasn’t saying. The inmate that upset her must have been Lincoln; Michael was sure of it. He watched her take a huge gulp from the cup in her hands though the tea had to still be quite hot. The way she glanced at him over her cup was worrisome. He was out of his depth with this one. It was probably time he called it a night. Not exactly what he’d had in mind when he decided to talk to her, but it could have been a lot worse. “I should…” he started to say.

“Tell me Michael,” she cut in, her cup clinking back onto the tray as she turned to him, “Have you ever felt like doing something reckless?”

If she only knew just how reckless he was being just sitting beside her. “That’s a very loaded question,” he told her as way of response.

His answer caused her to scowl a little, but it was clear she was only teasing. “Not a good boy then? Because that would be such a pity.”

“But if I was a good boy you’d have a chance of corrupting me,” he pointed out. Why had he said that? He was just digging his hole deeper and deeper.

“Assuming you wish to be corrupted. Do you, wish to be corrupted?”

Now that was a very loaded question. She was leaning toward him again, her face tilted up towards his. They were so close he could feel her breath on his face. It was well past time that he left. Instead he leaned down and kissed her. He hadn’t meant to do that. Even as his lips touched hers he reminded himself just how much of a bad idea this was. But as her lips parted beneath his he couldn’t help himself. His tongue slid past her lips to brush against her own. By the time he finally got up enough willpower to pull away they were both out of breath. “Your tea’s getting cold,” he told her. It was the only thing he could think to say.

“I didn’t come up here for the tea.” She squeezed his knee and nuzzled her face against his own. Her breath mingled with his own. “Did you?”

He pulled away from her a little, trying to get out of her orbit. They had passed dangerous waters a few miles back, and he needed to find his way back to land. “You seemed upset. I came up here to talk, make you feel better.”

“So make me feel better.”

Before he could respond she captured his lips again, pulling him back towards her. They shouldn’t be doing this, he knew, but it was hard to pull away. It was hard to think with her so close. Yet somehow he found himself sliding toward the center of the bench, closing the small gap that had still existed between them. Closer seemed to be what she wanted, throwing her leg over his own. He tried not to think about what she must look like now, legs spread, dress rucked up enough to see between her thighs, but it was almost impossible to steer his thoughts to less dangerous ground. He had barely managed to get his thoughts under control as she grabbed ahold of his hand and guided it between her legs. “Sara,” he said, pulling away. It hit him that it was probably the first time he had said her name. Without meaning to he glanced down to find the sight even better than he’d imagined. He tried to shake the image from his mind with no success. “What are you doing?” he asked, not unkindly.

She watched him for a moment before reaching beneath her dress and pulling her panties off. He found he couldn’t help himself from watching the process. More images he was unable to shake. She shoved them in her purse and turned back to him with a playful look. “Being reckless,” she said simply.

“Someone could see.” But the only person near enough to see was him.

“That’s what makes it reckless.” She smiled playfully.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. His eyes scanned the room. Even if no one was close enough to see them, there were far more important reasons not to do this. “Maybe I am a good boy after all,” he told her quietly.

He expected to see displeasure at his pronouncement, but instead his answer seemed to amuse her. “Something tells me that isn’t true,” she replied. He was careful to keep his eyes north of the border as she continued. “It would make me feel better.”

There was a long moment while he tried to find something to say to that. Everything he could think of sounded rude or like he was judging her. He searched for any excuse to give except the real one. “What do you want Sara?” he finally asked.

Instead of answering she guided his hand back between her thighs. She was wet beneath his fingertips. His dick twitched in response. This was a new kind of reckless he hadn’t known himself capable of. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to do this. He shouldn’t do this, but he wanted to so bad. She watched him for a long time before letting go of his wrist. “Of course if you don’t want to, I understand.” Her voice was husky, twinged with desire.

If only she truly understood what she was proposing, but in the moment even Michael couldn’t think of that. Before he could consider what he was doing he pressed a finger inside of her. It was worth it to see her face, to hear the soft little gasp she made as he pushed inside of her. Juices coated his finger, easing the slide of the digit. Her head fell against the booth, and she watched him with hooded eyes as he slid a second finger in with the first. She was throbbing around him, squeezing his fingers. It was easy to imagine what this would feel like if he was using his cock. The last vestiges of objective reasoning fled with the thought. He hooked his fingers inside of her and brushed his thumb against her clit. The look on her face was pure bliss; he wanted to watch her forever. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, like he had any plans of ever pulling away.

Her jaw tightened as he rubbed her clit a little harder. She was working so hard to keep quiet, but she was so wet around his fingers he could hear how turned on she was regardless. Still, he wanted to make her moan, even if it might get them caught. He very nearly got his wish as he rubbed circles around her clit. Instead she reached out, gripping his shoulder hard. Her walls were fluttering fast around his probing fingers, her breaths coming out uneven. At last a soft moan fell from her lips. He could tell she was getting close as he brushed against her clit again. “Feeling better?” he teased.

“Oh fuck!” she gasped barely loud enough for him to hear. Her knuckles were white as she squeezed his shoulder, her breath heavy on his cheek. “So good.”

Her mouth fell open slightly as he finally pushed her over the edge. She looked so cute as she was coming down off her high that he couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her softly. It was only for a moment before she pulled away. “Come with me,” she whispered.

Sara was a little unsteady on her feet as she rose from the bench but quickly regained her footing and led the way toward a door close by. She pulled him inside what turned out to be a small bathroom and locked the door behind them. This was certainly not what he had expected when he first saw her from across the room. He had barely turned to look at her before her lips were on his own again. The kiss was far more desperate than any they had shared at the table. Neither of them seemed to be able to get enough of each other in the moment. Her hands went to his belt, pulling it open as she pushed them both further into the room. It wasn’t until she had finished walking them toward the sink that she broke away and shot him a sheepish look. “You have protection, right?” she asked suddenly, her hands freezing in the act of working his slacks open.

The question caught him off guard for a moment. “Yeah,” he finally replied.

“Good,” she muttered, hopping up on the sink, her legs spread just enough for him to get the barest glimpse of where he had just had his fingers before he was distracted by her hand circling around his cock. “Shit,” she whispered, stroking him gently.

He groaned softly. She’d asked him something a moment ago, but suddenly he couldn’t remember what it had been. It had seemed important. His hands slid along her outer thighs, pushing her dress up to expose her to him even more. Their noses brushed against each other, and they kissed breathlessly. “You have no idea how much I need you to fuck me right now,” she panted.

The second he had managed to fish the condom out of his wallet she snatched it out of his hand, opening the wrapper with her teeth, quickly rolling it on him. A soft chuckle fell from his lips as he watched her intently. But she was all business, guiding him to her entrance.

They both gasped as he pushed inside her. She was tight around him, her walls still slick from mere minutes earlier. It made it easy to slide deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. Their lips touched as they moved together, quickly finding a rhythm that worked for both of them. He was glad to find her far less quiet over the sound of their bodies coming together. Little breathless moans kept falling from her lips as he angled his hips to drive himself even deeper. It was enough to drive him wild. All thought of anything but getting her off again was driven from his mind.

Their hips snapped together fast, both of them panting heavily against each other’s mouths. All he could think about was how her walls throbbed around him. He was already embarrassingly close despite himself. More than anything he wanted to feel her getting off around his cock. The way she squeezed his cock made him think she might be close too. It might take nothing at all to push her to the brink again. A breathless moan fell from her lips as he reached between them to rub her clit. Her walls twitched around him as he snapped his hips against her faster, careful to keep a steady rhythm with his thumb as well. Small gasps filled the room, her pussy like a vice around his cock. He kept going, trying to push her further. Her muscles were fluttering around him rapidly, and he wasn’t sure he could take much more as a groan fell from her lips. She jerked against him, masking her cries with his mouth. He pushed his cock along her contracting muscles just once more before it was too much for him.

Sara was panting softly, her head against his shoulder. “We should run into each other more often,” she said with a satisfied laugh.

Michael tried to match her smile as he pulled out of her. She jumped off the sink and pulled her dress down again. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say to her now. He’d never been good at these types of interactions. “Maybe we should,” he offered after a moment.

“Well I should probably go,” she said awkwardly. At least he wasn’t the only one unsure how to proceed.

For some reason he nodded at that and just let her ease out the door by herself, leaving him alone with the full realization of what he had just done. Oh she was going to hate him. He hated himself already.

***

Sara sighed loudly to herself. She had read the same sentence several times now, but the words weren’t making it into her brain. The whole morning had been like this. She had woken up satisfied, a pleasant ache between her thighs, and knew instantly what had happened. For once she had been completely sober and could remember in graphic detail the events of the night before. In all honesty, she wasn’t completely sure that was such a good thing. A few years ago she could have blamed the booze, blamed the drugs, but this time it had been all her, completely aware of what she was doing. The question that plagued her was why she did it? Sure she had been stressed and could have used the release. Sure he was hot, so hot. But neither of those were reasons to hook up with a complete stranger. What if she ran into him again? Was she supposed to apologize? Act like nothing had happened? And what if he told his brother? That question particularly plagued her. She couldn’t bear the shame of what could come of that.

After a moment she shook her head to try, yet again, to push Michael from her mind. It was equally as successful as every time before. Another frustrated sigh escaped her. This time Katie was close enough to hear. “Something you want to talk about?” the nurse asked.

Sara was quick to shake her head. She had been very careful not to catch her friend’s eye when she came in. Katie had a way of picking up on subtle changes to Sara’s usual demeanor. Oftentimes it was nice, a way of not having to expressly state she needed a friend, but other times it was problematic, like when Sara did not want to talk about something. And she did not want to talk about this. Except that she did. But she didn’t. But she did. The thought of what her friend might say if Sara did open up about this had kept her silent. So far this had been working well, but now that Katie had caught the scent, she wouldn’t stop until she knew. Sure enough, she walked over and sat in the chair next to Sara’s desk and looked at her pointedly for a moment then down at the file on the desk. A look of comprehension crossed the nurse’s face. “Burrows?” she asked. “Should have known. That man is going to drive you batty if you don’t stop obsessing over him.”

Sara knew that this was the perfect out, blame Lincoln Burrows and move on, but she couldn’t find it in herself to let Katie think the inmate was to blame for this. “Lincoln is not the problem,” she said simply.

Katie shot her an incredulous look. “Lincoln is it now?” The innuendo was clear in her tone.

A small scoff fell from Sara’s lips. “I’m spending enough time in his head that I might as well call him Lincoln. And like I said, he is not the problem. I promise.” She shot her friend a sheepish look. “I will have you know that I had sex last night.” She was careful to look away as she finished the sentence.

Katie sat for a long moment stunned. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone. Have you been holding out on me?”

If only that were the case. Sara would have given anything to not have to admit she’d had some random hook up in a public bathroom. Alas, it was not the case. “I… uh… I’m not actually.” Katie raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Please don’t judge me,” Sara added in her best pleading tone.

Opposed to berating her for the indiscretion Katie busted out laughing. It took a considerable amount of time for the laughter to subside. Even when it did the nurse had trouble getting the words out. “You’re telling me you went out and had a drunken one night stand?” she asked. The disbelief was evident. “I wouldn’t have thought that you were capable of it.”

If only she knew how wrong she was. Sara had don’t plenty of things that would shock her. As her friend spoke Sara was reminded that there were other things Katie didn’t know about her. How had they been friends for over two years and Sara had not once confided in her about who she had been before Fox River? This was the perfect opportunity. Sara didn’t take it. “I don’t really drink,” was the closest she got to a confession. “I may have actually had a completely sober one night stand in the upstairs bathroom of the Wiltmore.” She took a moment to look sheepish again.

Katie appeared to let that sink in. “So? You needed a good lay. It was good, wasn’t it?”

“It was interesting,” Sara said after a moment. “Interesting good but complicated.”

Katie watched her for a moment. Clearly she had many questions and was trying to pick which one to ask first. “How exactly did this happen? Not that I’m not happy for you, by the way, just curious.”

Sara sighed heavily, her thoughts a jumble. “I was having dinner with my father,” she began carefully. “It didn’t go well, and I was already having a bad day.”

“So you picked up some stranger?” The question came out more amused than judgmental.

“I guess, kind of. He came up to me, and I just kind of took him upstairs.” She found that when she said it like that, it even kind of puzzled her. “It’s hard to explain. Just assume I had a momentary lapse of sense. I don’t know why. I mean, he is…” The words failed her. “I could tell you that he’s hot, but that honestly wouldn’t do the man justice,” she said instead.

Katie laughed. “Does exceptionally hot guy have a name?”

“Michael.” Sara thought for a moment. “It occurs to me that I never asked his last name. If I knew it, it would make things so much easier to know which inmate to avoid as much as possible.” Her brow furled in concentration as the thought plagued her again.

“Come again?”

Sara shifted uncomfortably. “That’s kind of the bad thing about it. His brother is an inmate here, and I kind of knew that beforehand. We’d actually met before, here actually. I was talking to the guard at visitation about who has been visiting Lincoln, and Michael was leaving from having come to see his own brother. We ran into each other, literally, had a moment. And then we just happened to both be at the same place last night and… But I don’t know who is brother is. What if Michael tells him? That’s the last thing I need, for it to get around the prison that I’m a freak. I just needed to relive some tension, and he is so pretty. I didn’t think it through until this morning. Am I supposed to ask every inmate I encounter if they happen to have a brother named Michael?”

There was a long moment where Katie just sat there shocked. Sara was sure that this was when the judgement was going to come out. “Freak? What exactly did you do to this man?” she finally asked, too awestruck for words.

“I got him to finger me while we were in a room full of people. I mean, none of them were particularly close but still. Then I drug him to the bathroom and kind of jumped him. I didn’t even ask for his number after. I just kind of left. Which sucks, because I kind of want to do it again. I can’t stop thinking about him. I know I should, but I can’t.” Katie shot her an incredulous look. “Did I mention too hot for words? And he has these pretty blue eyes… And very talented fingers. I’ve never had anyone get me off so fast in my life, and that includes me.”

Katie chuckled at that. “If you feel that strongly about it you can always camp out at visitation until he shows up, get his number then. I can totally cover for you.” Sara rolled her eyes to that. “I’m only teasing.”

Sara rolled her eyes again. “I guess I deserve that. I’ve been trying to push him from my mind all day. I thought maybe work would help, but I don’t think Lincoln is going to be much help on that front.” She paused for a second. “I think it’s because of his brother. His name is Michael too. Just some random coincidence but I keep thinking about it and my Michael. Well… not mine, but you know what I mean. I think it’s maybe because I’ve been thinking about him too, for a while now. Lincoln’s brother, not the one I slept with. I’ve been considering going to see him. I thought it might help get some insight into Lincoln. He’s being difficult, and I don’t know how to get through to him. I thought maybe his brother could help with that. Is that too far though? I feel like it might be overstepping a little.” She shot Katie a questioning look.

“Don’t look at me. You know how I feel about your Burrows obsession.”

Sara sighed at that. “I know. I know. I just want to help him to the best of my ability. I know that you think I’m crazy. Thanks for listening anyway. And not judging my wanton behavior.”

Katie shrugged. “I’m just glad that you finally got out of your head for a little while. Got away from Burrows. I think that this could be good for you. Even if you were a freak, as you put it. If it’s meant to be, maybe you’ll even see this Michael again. Maybe third times the charm. You’ll fall madly in love. Man that pretty has got to make pretty babies too.”

Sara was glad that Katie had fallen to teasing her rather than looking down on her behavior. Maybe she was right, and this could turn into something good for her. “I don’t know about all that, but I guess even if I never see him again, at least I have fond memories to remember him by.” She paused as a call from the other side of the office door got their attention. Katie rose from her seat and went to check what was happen. “You’re a good friend, you know,” Sara added as the nurse reached the door. “I don’t know what I’d do without you in this place.”

Katie shrugged. “It’s nothing. Most days I can’t even remember what this place was like before you came around.” She motioned her head toward the ward beyond. “I’ll let you know if we need you. Try not to spend all day on Burrows.” With that she walked through the office door.

Once she was gone Sara was left to her thoughts as scattered as they were. She read over her notes on Lincoln’s brother one more time. It wouldn’t be too difficult to track him down. She knew his name and profession. All she had to do was look for a structural engineer named Michael Scofield. Should be a piece of cake. The only question that hung over her head was if going to see Lincoln’s brother would be crossing a line. Maybe he would prove to be just as emotionally damaged and volatile as his brother. Maybe he wouldn’t wished to talk to her. Maybe going to see him would turn out to be a horrible idea. But what was the worst that could happen if she did?

***

The kid sat on the other side of the barrier so wound up that Lincoln was afraid that he might explode. “How have you been?” he asked.

LJ shrugged, carefully not making eye contact with his father. Lincoln looked behind him toward Michael. His brother stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes moving around the room almost continually. For the moment Lincoln ignored him, turning back to his son. “I’m glad you came.”

LJ scoffed at that but didn’t say much else. It was Michael that filled the silence instead. “He had something that he wanted to ask you.”

The teen turned toward his uncle, shooting him a look that Lincoln couldn’t quite see. The subtext was enough to tell him something was going on between them. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his eyes crossing between his brother and his son. “You know that you can tell me anything,” he added in an undertone, leaning forward a little toward the mesh cage. His son was still too distracted glaring at his uncle to notice.

“Well,” Michael said. He had eyes only for his nephew, and Lincoln was sure that he was missing something important between them.

At last LJ finally turned around and looked at his father for a moment. It had been a long time since they had sat like this. The times between LJ’s visits grew longer and longer as time went on, and even when he did come, he spent more time glaring off into the distance than actually looking at his father. But then the moment was over, and he was looking away. “It was nothing,” the boy mumbled. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad that you came,” Lincoln repeated. He glanced at his brother for some kind of support, but Michael wasn’t paying attention. Lincoln sighed. He didn’t want to say the words that kept threatening to come out of his mouth. “I know that this must be hard for you. I’ve never been good with words and all that, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I want you to know that.”

LJ scoffed and glared at him for a moment. “Why would that matter to me? If you loved me you wouldn’t be here.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to come, okay. I don’t want to see you. Uncle Mike and Mom made me.”

Lincoln took a deep breath, working as hard as he could to keep his temper. “That’s fair. I know that I’ve never been the best dad, but I’ve done the best that I could. I know that doesn’t mean much to you. I should have been better; you deserved better.”

LJ shook his head again. “There’s nothing that you have to say that I want to hear.” He turned to his uncle. “I’ll be in the car.”

Without waiting for his uncle to respond LJ rose from the seat in front of the barrier and walked away. Lincoln’s eyes followed him until he was out of sight, and even then he continued to stare at the place where his son had last been visible. He missed his brother taking the seat in front of him. “Sorry about that,” Michael muttered. “I’ll talk to him.”

The sound of his brother’s voice finally pulled Lincoln from his vigil. He turned to look at him sharply. “Don’t. He has a right to be angry at me. You shouldn’t have forced him to come.”

The look on Michael’s face was unreadable. They stared at each other for a long time with Lincoln unaware what his brother might be thinking, Finally Michael spoke. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I won’t make him come. You know that means he won’t come though?”

Lincoln had considered that. “Then he won’t come. I’ve caused him enough pain as it is without forcing my presence upon him.”

Michael opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. “Have it your way,” he finally muttered.

“What’s going on with you dude?” Lincoln watched his brother carefully. “Something has been up for a while. Last week you practically jumped out of your skin at the slightest noise. Now you’re acting like you’re afraid someone might see you.” Something about Michael’s expression caught Lincoln’s interest. “Are you suddenly ashamed of me?” he asked with a laugh.

Michael chuckled a little himself but there was no heart in it. “I’ve just been distracted with work. Some sort of urban development project downtown.” Yet again his eyes cut around the room. “How have things been going with the doctor?” he added with a sideways glace.

The question felt significant somehow, but Lincoln couldn’t put his finger on what his brother might be talking about. “I’m still being forced to see her, if that is the question. I’m not sure what good she thinks it was will do.” He looked through the barrier at his brother suspiciously. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the other project you were working on, would it? Because we agreed that you would stop that.”

The look in Michael’s eyes was hard to interpret. “I just thought maybe you had started to cooperate with her instead of using her for target practice. It might help to talk to someone.”

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “I’m not you. I don’t feel the need to sit around and talk about my feelings. Once she sees that there is nothing to be gained by coming around, she’ll leave me be.”

Michael frowned heavily but dropped the subject. “I should probably go,” he said. “My boss wants to talk to me about something.”

“For me that usually meant I was about to be fired,” Lincoln added as a joke.

Michael laughed at that too. “I don’t have your easy going charm though.” His eyes got sad all of a sudden. “I’ll see you next week,” he said instead of whatever else he had been considering.

“See you next week. Love you brother.” Lincoln paused for a moment. “Make sure that LJ is okay for me.”

“I will,” Michael said with a nod. A long moment passed before he rose from his seat and walked away.

***

The office was abuzz when Michael arrived. Ignoring the others, he made his way down the hall to his boss’s office. The desk in front of the office stood empty as usual. Judah Middleton was sitting at his desk when Michael knocked on the door. He looked up from whatever he had been pouring over and waved Michael through the door. “I see you got my message,” he said by way of greeting. He had delivered the message to Michael himself. It wasn’t hard for it to get lost in transit. “Well, don’t just stand in the doorway.”

Michael stepped into the room, the door easing shut behind him. Judah had always been a little eccentric. The son of the original Middleton that helped found the firm, Judah wasn’t much older than Michael himself, and there were still those that questioned his leadership. In truth, Michael couldn’t really understand it. The man was great, and he’d really lived too, travelling all over the world before taking up a place in the firm. He just had a few quirks that a person needed to get used to. So far this had proven difficult. “I see that you still haven’t found an assistant.” Michael gestured toward the empty desk.

“Forget about that. I needed to talk to you about something.”

Michael’s eyes fell on the model sitting on the table behind the desk. He hadn’t expected to see it again so soon. “Is Hannah coming?” he asked. Hannah had been the architect that he had worked with on the proposal. She’d been really excited about it.

Judah looked between Michael and the model. “No. I actually needed to talk to you about something else. Well, not completely different.” It was the first time Michael had ever seen him look uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? Did the governor’s office decide to go with someone else?” He knew that would really devastate Hannah after all their hard work.

“No they picked us.” There was that uncomfortable look again. “That’s why I needed to talk to you. About your brother.”

The words were like a slap in the face. What could Lincoln have to do with this? “My brother?” he asked carefully. It wouldn’t be good to yell at his boss, especially under these circumstances. Whatever Judah knew was going to come out no matter how Michael reacted. “What about my brother?” He tried to keep the unease out of his voice.

Judah shifted uncomfortably in his chair but held Michael’s gaze. “When I first came here last year I heard a rumor that your brother was sick. I didn’t question it, saw no reason to bring up a painful subject. But when I brought it up to my father in passing, he told me that your brother is in prison.”

Michael thought through his response carefully. “I never meant to deceive you, if that’s what you think. I always assumed you knew.”

His boss waved a dismissive hand. “No need to explain. Like I said, we never talked about it. I heard an office rumor and didn’t want to bring it up; it’s my fault that I didn’t know the truth.” He smiled sadly. “It just occurs to me that there could be some issues with the project. Actually, it didn’t occur to me as much as the governor’s chief of staff questioned if anyone working on the project had a criminal record.”

“I don’t,” Michael was quick to put in.

“Oh I was sure that you didn’t, but I was worried about your brother. Is there any reason why he might be a problem?”

Michael’s eyes cut over to the model again. Hannah would hate him forever if he ruined this for her. “None that I can think of.”

Judah let out a relieved breath. “Good. I figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Just wanted to make sure nothing would come up on your background check.”

The words hit Michael slowly. “Background check?” he asked unsure he’d heard that right. That couldn’t be right.

“Yeah,” Judah said with a shrug. “Make sense I guess since he plans to unveil the plans at the Christmas party at the governor’s mansion. The whole team got invited; they just have to make sure everything is okay.”

“Right. Of course. Makes perfect sense.” Michael opened his mouth to continue, to confess. Instead what came out was, “When is the party?”

“A week from Friday. You’ll be able to make it?”

Michael nodded. “I don’t see why not. I should probably…” He gestured towards his own office.

“Of course. Lots of planning to do. I’m glad we straightened this out.”

“Me too,” Michael replied. Oh he was totally going to get fired; he just knew it.

***

Lincoln was sitting with his back against the wall when the guard opened the door to let Dr. Tancredi into the cell. “Hello Lincoln,” she said pleasantly.

He glanced at her but didn’t do much more than nod. She hadn’t come last week, and he was starting to hope that she might have finally given him up as a lost cause. He should have known not to put much stock in hope. It always ended in disappointment, especially in here. Just when he had started to believe she popped back up to stand there in the doorway of his cell and stare at him. “Are we going to get this over with?” he finally asked when she made no move to enter.

She studied him for a moment. Finally she took a step inside the cell but didn’t move toward her usual corner. “I have been giving some thought to our last conversation.” She said it so nonchalantly that even Lincoln forgot for a moment just how unpleasant he had been. He choose not to comment. “I must be honest with you,” she began again after a short pause, “that I did not much consider what inconvenience my visits might cause you. I apologize for that. I was hoping that we could begin again you and me.”

“Sure. Because you coming back is exactly what I wanted.”

The doc looked at him pointedly for a moment. “Let us, for a moment, be civil. I have a proposition for you if you are willing to listen.” Lincoln gave her a slight nod in return. “You mentioned that the shackles were, we’ll say inconvenient, for want of another word. So I spoke with Warden Pope, and he has consented to us removing them if you are willing to let one of the guards stay while we talk.”

Lincoln looked between the doc and the c.o. standing at the door. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being forced to bare his soul in front of anyone else. The doc was bad enough. “I can’t just not do this? At all?”

There was a long moment of silence. “No.”

He sighed loudly. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He took a moment to look toward the guard again. “I guess it’s just you and me then.”

Once the cell door shut with a snap she walked over to the table and sat down. “How have you been?”

Lincoln glanced over toward her for a moment and shrugged. “That the burning question you’ve been dying to ask me? You could have just popped down here at any time if that’s all you needed to know.” A small laugh escaped from her corner. It was good to know she had some semblance of a sense of humor. “So how is this supposed to work?”

She opened up her notebook and looked up at him. “I thought that you might like to do the talking since every time I start you get angry at me. We can talk about anything you want.” A strange look crossed her face at the utterance, but it was gone so quickly Lincoln couldn’t be sure.

The offer seemed a little too good to be true. “Anything?” he asked after a moment of thought. There were a few things he would have loved to ask her.

She seemed to think better of the offer though. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” she asked instead of answering.

“That could get boring.” When no response came from the corner, he continued on. “Let’s see. I got up, sat here for a while, had breakfast, sat here some more, had lunch, and then you came. I think that about sums it up. I imagine that once you leave I will do some more sitting. Dinner will also be involved at some point. Mondays are always a bit dull.” A very loaded silence came from the corner. The kind of silence that meant something. “What?” He looked over to her.

“Today’s Tuesday.”

“Ahh yard time. See, you’re brightening up my day after all. Add that into the itinerary after dinner.” He gave a little laugh that she didn’t return. “What about you?” he asked as way of changing the subject. “Anyone else to interrogate today?”

“No one else at present.” She let him sit there watching her for a moment before continuing. “Do you do anything else with your time? Read perhaps?”

Lincoln shot her an incredulous look. “Read?”

She surprised him a little by laughing. “I assume you’re familiar with the concept if not the execution.” There was a very significant pause. “Sorry, Poor choice of words.”

He decided to let it slide. “There isn’t really much to do except sit here,” he said. “Not much of a reader Doc.” She nodded as he glanced over toward the corner. “I can read, for the record, but the concept of doing it for fun never took.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Maybe you just never found a subject that interested you.” She was watching him carefully; he guessed that she was pondering some question that was liable to upset him. She always got quiet when she was on the verge of something like that. “Is there something you would like? Opposed to just sitting here, I mean. I would imagine that it gets a little repetitive after a while. I might be able to help.”

Lincoln shrugged. “I used to be on a work detail before this.” He motioned between the two of them the best he could. “The DOC felt that… Actually I don’t know what they thought. The Pope just said they couldn’t justify letting me out anymore. I don’t know why really, never did anything to anybody.”

“Your disciplinary file tells a different story.”

He looked over at her for a second. Of course she had read his file. “I didn’t start none of that. I finished a lot it, but starting it was always on someone else.”

“I see. Important distinction that. Maybe the DOC didn’t realize.”

“Now look who has jokes,” he said with a small chuckle.

“I try at least.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry that happened Lincoln. You should have been given the chance to prove yourself before they made that decision.”

He nodded to that halfheartedly. “I don’t think they much care what either of us thinks. Not their job to care.” She opened her mouth to speak. He figured this was the part where she assured him that she cared, so he cut her off at the pass. “I don’t particularly expect anyone to care about me. Especially you. I’m just a part of the job.”

She was staring at him again in that way that made him uneasy. “Expecting and wanting are different things,” she finally said.

He scoffed but didn’t press the issue. “Is this what this is going to be like from now on? We talk about how there is nothing for me to do?” The words filled the silence perfectly even though that wasn’t exactly what they had been talking about.

Her eyes scanned the room carefully. He wondered what she was looking for. Whatever it was she must have found it, because when she turned back to him there was no disappointment in her eyes. “It occurred to me that maybe I came on a little strong before. I tried to force you to open up to me instead of letting you go at your own pace. To be fair, I assumed that you would want to be rid of me quickly.”

“And this way won’t be quickly?” he asked suspiciously.

“No.”

He gave a small nod to that. “All this to make sure a dying man isn’t suicidal.”

The silence that came in response to that was heavy. There was no clue what she was thinking of as they sat quietly. When she finally spoke her words shocked him. “I don’t think it much matters if you’re suicidal.” The look he shot her in response was guarded. “As you pointed out, you are going to die. If you were suicidal, all you would need to do was wait,” she explained.

“Then why are you here?”

She shrugged. “Because you need someone to talk to.” She said it with finality. Not an opinion. Not a guess. A certainty. He needed someone to talk to.

“You sound like my brother,” he replied. It was easier than arguing. “And what do I talk about, my hopes and dreams, the things that I’m afraid of?”

“If you want.” There was another look around the cell. “You don’t have any pictures on the walls.” Another statement.

Though he had lived in this cell for the better part of three years Lincoln glanced around the cell too, like he wasn’t aware of the bare walls. “I didn’t know that I was required to decorate.”

“Not required to, no. Most inmates do. Pictures of family, home.”

“This is my home. I don’t need a picture to remind me of that.” The words came out automatically before he could think of what to say. He could hear the anger and bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry,” he said, “That wasn’t directed at you.”

“I didn’t assume that it was,” the doc replied. “You are allowed to be angry. Not that you need my permission. I just wondered why you didn’t put up any photos of your son.”

“I don’t have any,” he said quietly. Lisa or Michael probably would have sent him some if he had ever asked. He sighed loudly. “He came to see me last week. Told me that he shouldn’t have come and didn’t want to see me. I expect you knew that though.”

The doc shifted a little on the stool attached to the table. “I knew that he came to see you, but I wasn’t aware of the conversation you two had.” She paused for a moment. “I know that you think all I want to do is pry into your life, but I actually think you have your privacy invaded enough. I’m just here to listen.” There was an awkward pause. “I want to give you peace, as much as that is possible. You can believe me or not, your choice, but this isn’t easy for me, isn’t something that I wanted to do. No offense.”

He nodded at that. “Can I ask why?”

She was silent for so long that he was sure that he had upset her in some way. When she finally spoke her voice was faraway, like her mind hadn’t returned from whatever journey the question had sent it on. “When I know the full answer to that I will tell you. Until then you’ll just have to accept that I only want to help you.” Somehow he found that he believed her despite himself. 

***

Michael shifted through the stack of blueprints on his desk trying to find the one he was looking for. He hated when Lola just piled things on his desk and messed up his system. But the truth was he was just distracted. It had been a long day already, and it wasn’t nearly over yet. To make matters worse, the party at the governor’s mansion was that night. Every second that passed brought him closer and closer to his impending moment of truth. He had been waiting in anticipation since he’d been told about the background check, but so far he had not been called into Judah’s office to answer for his lies. As soon as that happened, he knew he was done for. All he could hope was that Judah might take pity on Hannah, and try and fight for the project for her sake. Michael could just be replaced with another structural engineer. It would be easy. That was what he told himself every time he began to question his fate. He could be replaced; it was that simple. Of course, it probably would have been easier if he had just fessed up when he had the chance a week ago. That thought always came back to him too. Maybe it wasn’t too late. With a sigh he looked up to locate his assistant and felt like he’d been dowsed in ice water. There she was back in his life, Sara Tancredi. Why was she here? It was the only thought he had. Why? He sat there staring at her for what felt like forever, his brain not quite able to process the sight of the prison doctor standing nonchalantly in front of his assistant’s desk. The women were talking amiably, Sara laughing at some joke Lola was making. Was the joke about him? The question suddenly brought him to his senses. Suddenly it occurred to him that the walls of his office were glass. She couldn’t see him here, in his office. He grabbed the phone as he dived under his desk, dialing the external number for the firm. Thank you for calling Middleton, Maxwell, and Schaum. How may I direct your call?” came the voice of the perky receptionist.

“Hey, Holly I need to talk to Lola,” he hissed into the phone, careful to keep his voice low.

“Michael?” she asked. There was a pause. “Are you calling from your office? For your own assistant?” The confusion was clear in her voice.

“Just patch me through,” he hissed as quietly as he could.

“God you’re weird.”

There was a moment where the line went quiet and then rang again as the call was transferred. He was happy to see that his assistant answered on the second ring. “You’ve reached Michael Scofield’s office. How may I assist you?” Lola asked in her best professional voice.

“It’s me,” he whispered into the phone. He looked around his desk in time to see a puzzled look cross her face. “Don’t react. I’m not here.”

“Of course,” she replied carefully. “Where is that again?”

“Lunch,” he replied quickly. “A meeting. A lunch meeting. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

“I understand. I will make sure Mr. Scofield gets the message. Have a great day.” She very pointedly did not look toward the office.

There was a click on the other end of the phone, and Michael was left listening to silence. He quickly hung up the phone and stayed hidden while Lola passed along the message to Sara.

A few minutes later the door to his office opened. “What the hell?” Lola asked in a furious whisper. “Where are you? Wait, are you under your desk?” Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked toward him.

Michael poked his head out and looked at her sheepishly. “I bet you want an explanation,” he said nonchalantly.

Lola looked at him for a second before bursting out laughing. “You are by far the oddest person I have ever met. Who does something like that?”

He sank back into his chair without comment. His mind continued to race. Why had she come here? Did she know something? Had she figured out who he was? Finally he said, “The woman that was here…”

“The one you dived under your desk to avoid?” Lola put in with a chuckle.

“Yes. Her. What did she want?”

“To see you.” There was a strange look in Lola’s eyes as she watched him fidget behind the desk.

“She didn’t happen to mention why, did she?” Michael tried to keep the question casual, like the answer didn’t much matter.

“As a matter of fact she did say something about your brother. Said that she was his doctor and wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Lincoln?” he asked without thinking. “She just wanted to talk about Lincoln?”

His assistant looked at him hard for a moment. “Apparently. She left her number, at the prison, so that you could call her back once you were done hiding from her.” There was a long moment of silence as she watched him carefully. “Your brother’s in prison?” she asked at last.

Michael shifted awkwardly. “Um… well, yes. I, uh, don’t generally tell people. And then when you mentioned it, I didn’t really know what to say.” He knew that he had to look pitiful from where she was standing. “I’m sorry. I’ve actually been saying that a lot lately, about Linc. All my life really,” he added in an undertone.

She looked at him curiously. As she stood there he wasn’t sure if she was going to storm out or sit down. For some reason she choose the sitting. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before words came out. “Your brother is Lincoln Burrows?” she asked at last.

“Yes.”

“So every Wednesday you go to visit him in prison?”

“Yes.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Why did you tell Maggie he was sick?”

Michael took a long time to consider how to explain that. “I never actually told her he was sick. More I didn’t correct the assumption when she made it. I’m not proud of it, if that helps. But I was new, and she’s the office gossip. I knew that the second she knew, everyone would know.”

“And then you’d have to talk about it,” she finished for him. “I can understand that. I didn’t exactly tell her about my brother either.”

The reminder made Michael feel even worse. “I am so sorry that I led you to believe that I understood what you went through, and that I accepted your sympathy. I truly am a horrible person.” He glanced at her uncertain what he would find there.

She shrugged. “I know. I’d been your assistant for about five seconds at that point. I guess I can’t really expect that you would tell me all your deepest darkest secrets. Does anyone else here know?” Her next words made him think that his expression must have given the answer away. “Always loved coming in first,” she said with a laugh. “Of course, none of this explains the hiding.”

That made Michael squirm even more. “Like I said, horrible person.” He shifted around again. “We’ve met, the good doctor and I.”

“She didn’t mention that.”

“That would be because she doesn’t know. I may have not told her who I was. I don’t really have an excuse for that.” At least not one I can tell you, he added to himself. “She would not be happy to make the connection.”

Lola raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask him to explain further. He had a feeling she was saving up her questions for later. They would revisit this incident in the future. Of that he was sure. “Well, she strikes me as persistent,” she said. “I suggest you call her and fess up before she shows up here again. I don’t know if I can keep a straight face next time.”

She handed him the sticky note with Sara’s name and number jotted on it and left for her own desk. He looked at the note for a long moment before setting it aside. He’d deal with it come Monday. For now he had other issues to think about. Like how he was supposed to survive a dinner with the governor. The man’s daughter would have to wait.

***

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Sara pulled into the driveway of the governor’s mansion. She hated the yearly Christmas party. Since the disastrous dinner a couple of weeks ago their relationship had only seemed more strained. As she walked up to the front door she was forced to wonder why her presence was required tonight under the circumstances. Usually all she ever did at these things was embarrass him, and since she’d taken the job at Fox River, he had been even less prone to show her off to his usual brand of sycophants. With a sigh she reached out to ring the doorbell, just hoping the evening would go by quickly. Maybe she would find a dark corner somewhere to hide until it was over. The door was whisked open, and she was quickly ushered toward the crowd.

The governor stood on the edge of the ball room deep in conversation with a man that Sara had never seen before. In fact, most of the people gathered around were unknown to her. She tried to find someone she recognized but didn’t completely hate. “How have you been kid?” a familiar voice asked behind her.

Sara turned around to find herself face to face with her father’s chief of staff. “Hey Bruce,” she said with a smile. He was the only person she ever looked forward to seeing at these things. He’d been more of a father to her at times than Frank Tancredi had ever been. And he was more accepting of some of her better choices too. “Who is that my father is talking to?”

Bruce turned to follow her gaze. “That is Judah Middleton The head of the architecture firm that is the front runner for your father’s downtown beautification project.” He turned back to her. “Frank said that he mentioned it to you.”

Sara was careful to choose her words. “Then it makes even less sense that he would invite me tonight. We didn’t exactly agree on his course of action.”

Bruce had always been good about reading between the lines with her, and she didn’t really need to elaborate the rest of that sentence. He choose to change the subject. “He missed you. I know that you don’t believe that, but he wanted to reach out to you.” He inclined his head toward her in acknowledgement of her skeptical look. “Okay, I encouraged him to reach out, but he does miss you. Underneath all the rest of it, he does worry about you working at the prison. Frank has just never been good at expressing himself to you. He does mean well though. You know I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t believe it.”

She nodded. Bruce was permanently attempting to get her and her father to reconcile. “But this project is important to him, and he knows how I feel about it. You can’t just slap a new coat of paint on the slums and expect it to fix the underlining problems that exist there.”

This was not the first time that she had made this argument to him. He had been present the first time it had come up. “You know that I agree with you,” he said. “You father agrees with you too, even if he won’t admit it.” His eyes darted around the room for a moment. “If you must know, the firm with the best project leans a little more your way then his.”

She took a moment to process that. “And he hopes by trotting out his liberal daughter he’ll appease them?”

Bruce smiled at that. “Something like that. Honestly, I think he wanted the opportunity to show you that he chose a project that you wouldn’t be completely adverse to. Just give it a chance. I need you to be on your best behavior tonight. For me, not Frank. We already have a situation on our hands at the moment.” He sighed loudly and looked around the room again. She could tell that he was preoccupied with something. There was a nervousness that wafted off him that was effortless to read.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to follow his gaze. He seemed to be looking at a man in the distance. His back was to them, and he was too far away for Sara to make much of him. But there was a vague familiarity there that made her uneasy. “Who’s that?”

“Just an unknown guest.” He turned to look at her again. “Well not unknown just unexpected.”

That was new. Bruce was usually always on top of the situation. It wasn’t at all like him to have any unknown variables in the mix when possible. “That bad?”

“Let’s just say you are not the most explosive element here tonight.” That was certainly a first. Sara had always been the most explosive element in Frank Tancredi’s life and political career. It was the only thing she had ever truly excelled at. She waited for more, but Bruce said nothing for the longest time. When it became obvious that she wasn’t willing to accept that for an answer he sighed again and shook his head. “It’s better that you don’t have all the details, but when we were vetting the firm we discovered something about the company’s wunderkind. Not anything too bad, I suppose, just not something that your father would be inclined to overlook, so we didn’t tell him. It was the best project. Plus, the kid’s squeaky clean other than that, and it didn’t seem all that important, just a random connection. Of course, I also assumed that his bosses would have left him at home.”

“And they didn’t?”

Bruce nodded, looking around again. “So far, no fires. I can just guess what your father will say when he finds out though. This could be a disaster. He might even fire me for this.” To Bruce that was like saying the world was likely to end tomorrow.

“I don’t understand.”

“I told you; they had the best project. And we can hardly punish people for their relatives. As much as some of us would like to,” he added, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, your father has spotted us. Please cut him a little slack for me.”

Sara barely had time to process the exchange before she was turning to greet her father and the two men beside him. “Hello,” she began pleasantly and then found herself unable to go on as she found herself face to face with a very familiar face. She was so shocked she failed to notice the woman that joined them slightly out of breath.

Suddenly the room felt very small as the six of them stood there. Bruce was staring at her curiously as she struggled to breathe. Her father was talking, that much she was sure, making introductions, but his words were like white noise in her ears. It felt like an eternity that she stood there staring at him, wondering what to say when her father inevitably found out they had met. All of Bruce’s evasions started to piece together in her head. The last name her father had uttered in introduction hitting her forcefully. Her lips parted to speak, but she lost her chance as the younger of the men spoke. “It’s nice to meet you Sara,” he said and shot her a very pointed look.

“Nice to meet you both.” She inclined her head to them and smiled but it obviously seemed forced.

Bruce was watching her as they stepped away toward whatever goal her father had been steering them toward. Once they were safely out of earshot he asked, “How do you know Michael Scofield?”

Sara was still staring at his back as he walked away and couldn’t find the words to answer. “Sara?” Bruce said, trying to get her attention.

She turned to look at him again. The pieces were still floating around in her mind on the cusp of coming together to give her the full picture. The reality of what she had done hitting her in waves. “I need to go,” she muttered, heading toward the nearest bathroom without a backward glance. She had no words to describe the thoughts swirling through her mind.

***

Michael was careful not to look back as the governor led him, Hannah, and Judah away. The man had offered to give them a tour of the house. It was the kind of thing Michael had always dreamed about, but in the moment he couldn’t enjoy it. Hannah and Judah were oohing and ahhing at everything they saw, but Michael wasn’t really listening to all the explanations about the building’s architecture as they walked. The only thought that he had in his head was the look on Sara’s face. He had no idea how he was going to explain this. So I never mentioned, but you’re doing a psych eval on my brother? Somehow he didn’t think that would work. It would have been one thing if they had just run into each other, but the sex was hard to explain away. Of all the problems he had foreseen for tonight, this was not one of them. Why hadn’t it been one of them? It seemed so obvious now that he was here. Of course the governor would have invited his only daughter. Michael could’ve kicked himself. “Did you know that?” Judah suddenly asked him.  
The question caught Michael off guard. “Sorry?” he said.

Judah laughed playfully. “Never mind him,” he said to the governor. “I told you, take him on an architectural tour and you lose him forever. He was probably counting the beams or something, wondering if all of them were needed for structural integrity.”

Frank Tancredi laughed at that too. “Nothing wrong with dedication to one’s passion. Did you always want to be a structural engineer Michael?”

Michael started a little. The governor was talking to him, intentionally. Why was he talking to him? He kept being nice, and it was weird. Surely the man should have been cold to him at the very least, if he had let Michael through the door at all. And that was just for Lincoln. There was no telling what he would have said if he’d known about Sara. Michael tried to push the memory from his mind and focus on the conversation. “I guess so,” he replied. “When I was a kid my mother gave me a build your own birdhouse kit. It was the first thing I ever built. I loved that birdhouse. I was sad to leave it behind. I hadn’t even thought that it might be something I would want, but I loved it. Well, after I got over my disappointment that she hadn’t given me a replica of the millennium falcon I’d asked for.” He added the last bit with a smile. “She always knew me better than I knew myself. Mothers are like that, I guess. Always know the right thing to say or do, gift to give.” He gave a hollow laugh at that.

“Knew?” Hannah asked. Of course she would pick up on the past tense; she saw everything. Her ability to pick up on subtle details was what Michael respected the most about her.

“Yeah,” Michael replied awkwardly. “She died when I was a kid.” Not something he wanted to talk about. Hannah had a tendency to try and mother him as it was, and he wasn’t ready to brooch the subject with her now. He looked around for something to change the subject. “What is that?” he asked when his eyes lighted upon a fresco in the distance.

“Oh, that,” the governor began, leading them over to it. Michael slipped back into his worries as they walked.

***

When they were all called in to dinner Sara took her seat without a word. Usually she would have been upset to not be sitting near Bruce, but she wasn’t ready to start rehashing their recent conversation. She knew that the second he had her in his sights the question would begin. It was not something she was looking forward to. Her father entered the room with the woman from earlier, Michael, and their boss in tow as she was settling in. To her dismay, both Michael and the woman were directed to sit in a couple of empty chairs on the opposite side of the table near where she was sitting. It took a lot of willpower to keep her eyes trained on her father as he settled in with the boss on one side of him and Bruce on another.

“I would like to thank you all for coming to my home tonight,” Frank Tancredi said with the raise of a glass. “This is the season for giving to those less fortunate than ourselves. It is truly a great moment when we can come together to act in the benefit of others, and I wanted to bring you all here to celebrate our impending project to clean up our great city with myself and my family. You have all no doubt met Bruce.” He pointed out the other man who was sitting, as always, at his right hand. “In the years we have known each other, he has become far more than my chief of staff but my closest friend, my ally, my brother in this fight to turn our great state around.” He paused to look at them all. “And of course, my daughter Sara.” Everyone’s eyes flicked briefly to where she sat, significantly far down the table from her father. “I know that you are all anxious to dig in, but I just wanted to take the moment to welcome you. We are going to do great things together; I can feel it. But for now it is time to eat.” He gave a careful laugh. Sara always thought of it as his political laugh, a laugh that the room was meant to repeat. And they did, each one giving a small appreciative chuckle, even her for appearances.

With that her father sat down, and Sara couldn’t resist the urge to look at Michael sitting diagonal from her. His eyes cut to her at the same moment, and she was very careful to look away again. The woman sitting directly across from her was trying to get her attention anyway. She looked to her and smiled the smile she’d been practicing since childhood. This might turn out to be a welcome distraction. “I wasn’t expecting to get to break bread with the governor’s own daughter tonight. You don’t usually come to these things, right?” the woman asked.

Great, a faithful follower of the latest gossip circling around. The woman had the air of someone who swirled around the capital but wasn’t anybody important. Probably a staffer of some kind who knew everyone’s business. Sara silently cursed whoever had made the seating arrangement for the night and struggled to keep a smile plastered on her face. “I’m pretty busy these days. I was just happy that I was able to find the time to come to this one. After all, I know how important this project is to my father.”

Almost as if he could feel his ears burning, her dad looked down the table to the pair of them. He did not look pleased to see them speaking, but honestly what could he expect sitting her next to someone like that. Come Monday she will discover that she has said or done something to embarrass him, and she’ll have to hear all about it. In all the years of her being a disappointment, he had never once thought to pick her seating partners more carefully. By now he should have learned. Sure, she might still slip up from time to time, but it would help some to not be sitting next to the most conservative donor he could find or the capital gossip. It was almost like he enjoyed being angry at her. In the moment Sara sized up the woman, young, pretty, thought herself more important than she really was, definitely a staffer. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met you before. Do you work for my father?”

The young woman shook her head. “Senator Adler,” she said with pride.

Sara cast her eyes down to the senator in question, near her father but not quite in the inner circle. Her father had been friendly with the senator for many years, in the way that politicians are frequently friends with each other while they secretly are plotting the other’s undoing. If the state capital were a high school someone would have given them the far more appropriate name ‘frenemies’. So maybe sitting her next to the pretty blond with the big mouth was not her father’s doing. Senator Adler would love the opportunity to embarrass her father, and Sara was a known resource for embarrassment. It was like low hanging fruit. “Well,” she said for nothing better to say, “I suppose that’s very exciting. I was never much interested in politics myself.” She smiled brightly and pushed her food around her plate a little, not even remotely hungry. Between this girl and Michael she was going to have a long night.

The bright eyed staffer shot her a pitting look. “Not all of us are cut out for it I suppose. Personally, I have wanted to enact real change in this world my whole life, but if we all felt that way, the position wouldn’t be so unique.” The perfect smile on her face never once faltered.

Sara had to give her props for having already mastered the ability of the thinly veiled insult. It was a skill the girl would need to make use of often if she continued in politics. Unfortunately for her, Sara had been practicing her whole life. “That is very true. I know when I was volunteering with Doctors Without Borders in India, I often thought I should be doing something meaningful with my life.”

Someone near them snorted with repressed laughter, and if she hadn’t known better, Sara might have thought it was Michael. She glanced at him again, but this time he was focused on the woman sitting beside him. As she turned back she caught the briefest glimpse of a sour look on the young woman’s face. She was quick to smile again when she realized Sara was looking. “Did you say that you’re a doctor? I didn’t know that,” the woman next to Michael said. “What hospital do you work at?”

Sara turned to look at her. She was by far the oldest member of their little party by at least twenty years, and she was looking at Sara like she was a well achieving student. Sara wished she had paid attention when her father was making introductions and knew who this woman was. How dangerous would the truth be? “I actually don’t work at a hospital at the moment,” she said after some thought.

“Private practice then? You probably make better money that way anyway, with much better hours I expect.” She smiled warmly, the kind of smile a mother might give. “I used to know about reasonable hours until they shackled me with this one.” She pushed Michael playfully. It was obvious there was a bond between the two of them. The thought twisted strangely in Sara’s gut. “Never goes home unless I make him. You two must be like two peas in a pod if you’ve already got a practice for yourself. How long have you been on your own?”

Sara shifted in her seat. If her father were close enough to hear he’d lose his mind that she was about to reveal such scandalous information in present company. The staffer was practically on the edge of her seat in case something juicy came up. Not wanting to keep her waiting, Sara said, “Actually I work at Fox River.” The woman looked confused at that. “The prison,” she clarified.

Everyone in her vicinity was looking at her, many of them shocked at the pronouncement. She was careful not to return the look Michael was shooting her, but there was clearly a warning in it. The staffer across from her was obviously taking mental notes. The woman beside Michael was shifting uncomfortably. “Why would you work there?” she asked in a disbelieving tone. The question was strange. Did she not know?

Sara glanced at Michael, who was carefully feigning attention to his plate. Her eyes flicked back to the woman she was talking to. “Instead of looking down on them, I wanted to be in a position to help if I could,” she said simply. “We’ve all made mistakes. Where would some of us be if we hadn’t gotten a hand up from time to time?”

The girl across from her scoffed at that. “You can’t honestly compare a few youthful indiscretions to the kinds of things those men have done. What about Lincoln Burrows? The state has been forced to shell out how much money to keep him alive for three years after he senselessly murdered an innocent man. And there are actually nuts out there that believe we should shell out even more by not executing him like he deserves.”

Sara cut her eyes over to where Michael sat. He had a strange look on his face, his back stiff but didn’t seem about to rebut that pronouncement. She looked back to the woman opposite and took a deep breath before responding. “Why is money always the argument for the death penalty? I’ve never understood that. It has been proven beyond a doubt at this point that it actually ends up costing more money to execute someone than to keep them incarcerated for life.”

“That’s just liberal propaganda. Even if it were true, we’re talking about making excuses to keep a monster alive. The taxpayers shouldn’t have to pay for that.”

Sara shook her head. “Monster is a bit harsh. You’ve never even met Burrows.”

“Whereas you have?” the girl asked laughing.

“Actually I have.” For the first time she looked down at the place card sitting in front of the girl’s plate. “Look, Heather, you clearly have all the rhetoric down pat, but you have no clue what you’re talking about. It’s easy to look at someone who has done something unthinkable and brand them as evil, but we’re talking about human beings. He’s a person. Moreover, he’s a person who lives in a small cell completely alone where the only furniture he has is bolted to the floor. Including yard time, visitation, and showers, he gets let out for approximately five hours a week. That means the majority of his life is spent in the same room, staring at the same walls.”

“Which he brought on himself,” the girl pointed out.

“Prison? Yes, he brought that on himself, but he actually has been a model prisoner. There’s no reason for him to be in solitary or for the DOC to revoke his permission to be on one of the work details. My point is that he’s a person with a life and a family. In five months when the state executes him they’re going to take someone’s father away from them. Does his son deserve that?”

The staffer scoffed again. “You think the vice president deserved to lose her brother?” A few of the people around them noted vigorously.

Sara shook her head. “No. I never said that. I just mean that that argument goes both ways.” She was very careful to not look at Michael as she went on. “Burrows has a brother too. Did you know that? That brother didn’t kill anyone.”

“As far as you know,” a man said. “Apples and trees and all that.”

Sara sat kind of dumbfounded at that for a moment. “That’s not completely fair, judging a man whom you’ve never met for the crimes of his brother.” Especially since said brother is sitting at the same table of as you.

The man nodded. “I suppose that’s true, but if he hasn’t already severed ties with Burrows, he’s the only one to blame for any pain the execution causes him. Personally, if my brother did anything like that, not that he would, I would write him off the moment he was arrested. You can’t abide criminals.”

“You assume it’s just that simple, cutting someone out of your life.” Sara turned to look at Michael, surprised that he was speaking. He shrugged when he noticed that she was looking and directed his next words toward her. “I’m sure there’s some sad tale about the pair of them. Always is, right?”

“Oh they all have sob stories,” Heather said. “That’s the thing. We don’t nip the problem in the bud in the beginning. It’s bad enough we have to pay their way, both in prison and out, but do we also have to hear them complain about how they had it so bad growing up. Lots of people have bad childhoods and don’t turn to a life of crime.”

To the shock of everyone around her Sara started laughing. “Sorry,” she said as she gasped for breath. “Just the irony.”

“You think I’m funny?” Heather asked scowling.

“Not particularly. I just heard that from someone else recently, that having a bad childhood wasn’t an excuse.” She waited until Heather looked mighty pleased with herself before adding, “Lincoln Burrows.”

The look on the girl’s face was priceless. It was obviously a struggle for her to plaster a smile back on her face as she turned to Michael. “Enough of all of this depressing talk. I don’t think we were properly introduced before.”

Sara nearly choked on her drink. The girl was staring at him intently, clearly implying they should be getting to know each other better. “This is Michael,” Sara took the opportunity to say. “He helped to design the project. Right? The structural engineer.” Your brother mentioned that, she added in her head.

“Right,” Michael responded, his eyes cutting to Sara.

Heather looked a little annoyed as she tried to get his attention back. “That is just so fascinating.” The woman next to Michael snorted into her own drink. Clearly this was normal behavior when he was around.

“I guess,” Michael responded with a look at his coworker that spoke volumes. “And this is Hannah, the architect.”

Heather gave a simpering little giggle as she completely ignored the woman being introduced to her. “I just find the whole project amazing. Those old buildings have needed tearing down for years. Now we can have a proper little neighborhood where you don’t have to see all the ugliness that’s just everywhere down there now.”

“You mean the poor people?” Sara responded. “We’ll just relocate them to Antarctica, I assume.”

It was Hannah that responded. “We are trying to make the community better without relocating anyone actually. It was the whole focus of the project in fact. Those buildings are a danger to anyone living in them, and we are very committed to providing adequate housing in their place. Plus Mikey here is dead set that we can’t do away with the youth center there. Bit attached, does a bunch of volunteer work there.” She actually reached up and pinched his cheeks much to his ire.

“Do you really?” Heather put in.

Michael shot his coworker a very pointed look. “I do what I can,” he answered absently. “But if you’ll excuse me, I need to run to rest room.”

As he started to rise from the table Sara rose too. “Here, let me show you where it is.” This was her chance to corner him. The idea had occurred to him too by the look on his face, but he had no reason to decline her offer.

As they ducked out the back of the room, Sara was quick to make sure that her father wasn’t paying attention. When she looked back he was deep in conversation with the small group huddled around his seat at the head of the table. He was unlikely to notice her absence for a long time at that rate. Thankful for that, she led Michael down the hallway to a small office that was currently unused by anybody. She flipped a switch and pointed to a door in the corner as they entered. “There’s the bathroom.”

Michael looked at the door for a moment. “Actually, I just wanted the chance to escape,” he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Sara shrugged. “I had thought about that. No one will bother you in here.” Except me since I have no intention of leaving. The thought was implied as she spoke.

He nodded vaguely and looked around the room. “Did you grow up here?” he asked suddenly. He stood awkwardly, probably waiting for her to yell at him for his lie of omission.

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say or do. At first she had been angry, but now she wasn’t completely sure. In the end she chose to stick with answering his question. “No. He wasn’t governor until I was already out of medical school.”

“Right. I should have remembered that.”

“Though he was a state senator my whole life,” she went on automatically, “Or some kind of government at least. I often had to duck out of dinners here, so I’m pretty good at finding a secluded place. So much of this is just empty space.”

His back was to her as he examined the books in the bookshelf on the far wall. She watched him carefully not sure if she was supposed to brooch the subject or not. She was so preoccupied trying to figure out if she was angry or just hurt that she almost missed it when he finally spoke to her. “I hope that Lincoln wasn’t too much of an ass to you,” he said.  
She could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was bracing for a fight. So he realized that she would be angry? That made her angrier, but she knew that she needed to tread carefully if she wanted to get the information she needed. Something told her the brothers weren’t as different as they appeared. “And why would you assume that he was an ass to me?”

He chuckled at that though his body didn’t relax. “Known him my whole life.” The comment obviously made him sad, but he didn’t elaborate.

“He was alright,” Sara assured him, though it wasn’t true. “I was forewarned that he has a knack for getting under people’s skin. Could have been worse.” She chuckled a little to herself. “Only some emotional damage.”

Michael nodded but stayed facing the wall. “He always has had a knack with women.”

“And here I was thinking it was a doctor thing.”

He laughed humorlessly. “You should meet his ex.”

“Lisa or Veronica?”

She knew that she had said something significant when Michael turned to look at her, but he didn’t let her know what it was that was so surprising. “Don’t let him fuck with you,” he said instead. “He’s not exactly the sit down and share your feelings kind of person.”

“I got that impression. He needs someone to talk to though, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Oh I’m sure he loved that observation,” Michael said knowingly.

“Called me a spoiled little rich girl who was only trying to look good in front of my rich friends. I don’t think your brother likes me much,” she added as an afterthought.

He looked at her intently for a moment. “Then why go back?” The question seemed like a test, but she didn’t know the right answer.

She shrugged. “I guess I want to help him, even if he can be an ass.” She chuckled. “Apparently I have a thing for bad boys. He once expressed concern that I might end up in an inappropriate relationship while working at the prison.”

Michael watched her for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. “I keep trying to help him, but he won’t let me. Keeps saying he’s made peace with it. He’s protected me our whole lives, and now I have a chance to return the favor but can’t.”

“You just have to keep trying. Even if he pushes you away, it’s just because he’s trying to take care of you like always.” The look that got her was odd. There was clearly something beneath the surface that she couldn’t see. “I’ve only talked to him a few times,” she went on, “but I get the impression that he’s the one who sacrifices for the family. That’s the way he likes it, the way it’s supposed to be. I don’t know that he could ask for help even if he wanted to.”

Michael looked off into the distance. “Do you think they’re missing us yet?”

“Oh I bet Heather misses you,” Sara put in. There was something in her tone that she was pretty sure didn’t belong there, though she couldn’t place what it was.

“The woman sitting next to me?” he asked incredulous. “I usually try to avoid women that wouldn’t be interested in me if they knew about Linc, or even just where I came from. And that one would run for the hills so fast it would give me whiplash. You heard her.”

She laughed. “I’m not sure that your brother would be much of a deterrent actually. Bet you anything that girl would forget her own name for a pretty face. You’d make a cute couple.”

“Not my type.” If she didn’t know better, Sara could have read a great many things into the look he was giving her. She pushed them all from her mind.

“We should probably head back before I give her even more to gossip about. I’m sure that’s the purpose of the seating arrangement tonight. It wouldn’t do for it to get back to Bruce that I was alone with you for any extended period of time. You already nearly gave him a heart attack by showing up tonight.”

He looked hurt by that, but she could tell that he was mostly for show. “I was under the impression that I was invited. But if I offended the almighty Bruce, I will of course be quick to make amends.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been forewarned about you too. You know exactly what the problem is.”

“My devilish good looks?” He chuckled at the exasperated look she shot him. “My boss really wanted me to tag along. I didn’t expect that anyone would know.”

And that was the comment that unleashed the tide of her anger. “You seriously don’t think that they wouldn’t have vetted everyone involved in the project before you were awarded the contract?”

Michael conceded the point with a nod, “I didn’t really think that one through, admittedly. But we got the project anyway?” The last bit was clearly a question.

She sighed heavily, no less upset. “If I correctly understood Bruce’s freaked out rambling earlier, he didn’t pass along everything he found out to my father. Seemed to think that you shouldn’t be punished because you have a brother on death row. He’s a good guy like that. Needless to say he was a little shocked to see that your boss had brought you along.”

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes flitting around the room. “He doesn’t know. Well he does,” Michael back tracked. He shook his head a moment. “He knows that my brother is in prison, because I go to see him, but no one at work knows who my brother is. Except Lola. My assistant. It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything. It’s just… It’s complicated, and I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” She could tell by his tone that he was upset too, but she wasn’t sure that it was anger.

After a moment to process that she replied, “I guess I can’t fault you for not airing your family’s dirty laundry at work. I know what that feels like. Of course, I don’t have much of a choice but air mine.” She watched him carefully. “You should have told me though.” She was glad to find her voice steady as she spoke.

He nodded and had the grace to look ashamed. “I should have,” he acknowledged. There was something dark beneath his gaze she wanted very much to be able to read. It was there for a moment then gone again just as quickly. “I don’t usually tell people,” he said at last. Though she suspected that wasn’t what he had meant to say.

“Did you assume that I would run for the hills?” she asked curiously. She wanted very much to know what he had been thinking. “You knew that I worked at the prison, so that doesn’t track. I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t tell me.” His expression was guarded, but she was pretty certain that she had guessed correctly. “Of course. Because if I knew that Lincoln was your brother I wouldn’t sleep with you.”

“I didn’t think you’d sleep with me at all,” he said suddenly.

Sara looked at him hard for a moment. He had a point, and she hated it. “Okay. I will take responsibility for that part, at least as the instigator. Though you should have told me before it got that far.”

“That’s fair.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I never meant for any of that to happen, I swear. I should have ended it, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” A strange look crossed his face at the last bit that was unfortunately kind of cute.

Sara sighed and tried to push the thought from her mind. Her anger was subsiding some, leaving behind that twisty feeling in her gut that she had no intention of contemplating what it meant. She knew what she needed to say. “Obviously, we can’t… ever again. Not only is it unprofessional and a conflict of interest but…” She wasn’t sure what else it was. “Maybe just that. I cannot be involved with you.” She looked around her for a moment, trying to find the right words. “And I’m sorry for my behavior that night. I had had a bad day. That’s not an excuse.” She watched him nod before going on. “You know, I came by your office today.”

“I know,” he said, “I dived beneath my desk when I saw you.”

The confession was so absurd that she had to laugh. “Of course you did.” She contemplated what she should say next. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay,” she finally settled on. “I mean, coming to your work and all. I thought it might help though, with Lincoln, get some insight into him that he’s unwilling to give. I probably shouldn’t have done it.”

He was silent for a long time, the dark look in his eyes again. “I don’t think Lincoln would appreciate me sharing his secrets.”

Sara nodded at that. “I thought you might say something like that. Can’t say I don’t understand it. He’d your brother.” She paused for a long moment. “We really should get back before Bruce sends out a search party.”

She inclined her head toward the door, and he walked over to where she stood. They were standing very close together, almost as close as they’d been in the bathroom. The memory was unwelcome, not something she should be thinking about. The look in his eyes made it worse, like he was thinking the same thing. “If you insist,” he said softly. “Ladies first.”

Sara considered him for a moment before she led the way out of the room. Michael’s footsteps were heavy behind her as they made their way back to the dining room. She had the same itching suspicion as on their infamous night together that he was staring at her ass as they walked, but when she turned to look back at him his eyes were focused off in the distance. She shook the thought from her mind and continued on.

Bruce was watching as they both took their seats again. By the way his eyes followed their progress, he clearly had something to say about their absence but was unable to from so far down the table. She knew that the first chance that arose he would be interrogating her about what had happened. It wasn’t exactly something she was looking forward to. Nor was having to return to the conversation she had left with the girl sitting across from her. Still, she settled into her seat and began picking at her food again. Heather was scowling at her, but Sara did her best to ignore the look. She couldn’t wait for the night to be over so she could go home to think over what she has learned. The anger that had bubbled up upon seeing him had simmered down a little, but it was still festering under the surface along with something else she couldn’t name. There was something about the way he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye as Heather made fresh attempts to flirt with him to no avail. It was dangerous, and that was the last thing that she needed. Even as she kept returning his looks curiously, she knew she needed to run far away.


	4. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara must consider her indiscretion with Michael as Lincoln starts to open up. A choice must be made. She can't have them both. It seems easy. But what will happen when her father finds out she is still treating the infamous inmate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am sorry that it took me a little longer than expected to get this chapter up. It turned out to be a bit of a beast, as you will see. Hopefully that makes up for it a little. It did end up being more difficult to put together than the previous ones. And unfortunately I fear that the other chapters are going to prove to be the same. I went into this thinking I had most of the content already written, but there had proven to be quite a bit more than I anticipated that still needs to be put down on the page, with most of the pre-written stuff being closer to the beginning. I am going to get started on the next chapter tomorrow, but I am not sure how much will need to be written before it will be ready. At last I seem to have begun to be able to get up early enough before work to get something down on paper, which should help speed things up some. *fingers crossed* My plan is to finish this story during the month of November as part of NaNoWriMo. How many chapters I will have finished and up before the end of the month I do not know now, but I am going to try for at least two of them with the others up before the end of December. I am so sorry about that, but I promise that I am going to finish this and get it up for you all to read soon. I really tried to catch all the typos in this one, but please let me know if I didn't and I will go in and fix the mistake.
> 
> As far as this chapter goes, it picks up at the very start of January and goes pretty much until the end. There are some time jumps here and there where nothing too important to the story happens, but this time around I added in some check in scenes, as I've been calling them to myself, that are shorter and nothing much happens in but gives you some insight into the characters a bit. Hopefully those work. If not let me know, and I will consider trying something else in future chapters. We finally get to meet Veronica and Bellick in this chapter. I hope I did them justice. There is also a little more angst in this chapter this well. And maybe a bit more smut too. But enough spoilers. I really hope that you guys enjoy this one. As always, I am very open to hearing what you think, so please feel free to comment and/or find me on tumblr. My screen name is Silas-Lehnsherr.

Chapter 3: January

The group assembled that night was sedate. Usually the meetings on New Year’s Eve were that way, everyone wishing they were somewhere else, doing something else. The coming of the New Year always seemed to make people question the mistakes they had made in the dying year. And Sara certainly had mistakes that she was trying to forgive herself for. Her mistakes were what was keeping her up at night. New Year’s had always been a trying time for her sobriety, always a time when she was left to reflect on all the things she had done wrong of late. Since she had gone to work at Fox River those regrets had been fewer, but the last month had proven a return to her old form. Sitting there she didn’t really feel like she was on the verge of relapsing, but self-check was important. Keep coming back. That was what they said. Keep coming back. It works if you work it. That was the thought that had brought her there. So far she had told no one about what had happened, what she had done, no matter how much she had wanted to talk about it, put her thoughts into focus. Even Katie who knew a part of the story was off limits. So instead of sharing her burden, Sara fought to stay busy instead. But every moment she had free brought her forcefully back to the issue she was facing, Lincoln Burrows. Or more importantly, his brother. The more she considered it, the more she wondered how she could have been so stupid. How could she have not known? At first she had tried to convince herself that she couldn’t have known that Michael was Lincoln’s brother, after all Michael wasn’t exactly an uncommon name, but that excuse started to wear thin quickly. She had known that Michael’s brother was an inmate. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t known which one; sleeping with him was inappropriate. She never should have done that. The thought was always with her, wearing her down.

As she drowned in her thoughts Sara looked around solemnly at the small group gathered and found herself glad that Brad Bellick was not among them. They had met in this very meeting over two years ago, but since they had begun working together, she always dreading running into him in this context. She found it far more difficult to discuss her life with someone that she saw on almost a daily basis. It reinforced the reasoning behind the anonymity they all shared. The thoughts currently going through her head couldn’t be shared in front of anyone at Fox River. Wasn’t that the point of coming here anyway, to say the things you couldn’t say in your everyday life? Still, she was grateful to have met him, to be where she was today. That was what she tried to cling to. Good had come out of their meeting. She was in a better place now than when she had first stumbled into his world. That was what mattered, not her recent missteps. Those could still be fixed if she was careful.

The young man who was sharing finished, and Sara felt awful that she hadn’t caught a word of what he had been saying. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she wasn’t playing her part here tonight. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the group leader was asking if anyone else wanted to share. Despite her racing mind, she very pointedly kept her mouth shut. “What about you Sara?” the woman who hosted the group asked. “You obviously seem to have something on you mind.”

Sara straightened up in her seat looking guilty, feeling guilty. “I know. I am so sorry,” she said, directing her words to the young man sitting on the other side of the circle. He was completely foreign to her; if they had ever met in group before she didn’t remember it. “And I did not catch your name.”

“Daniel,” he supplied.

“Daniel,” she repeated absently. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t paying attention to you when you were sharing. I know how hard it can be to share, to open yourself up to a group of people you don’t really know. Ultimately we are all strangers here, which can help when you need to say something you’re too ashamed to share with the people in your life, but sometimes it can seem so daunting to tell someone you don’t know your deepest darkest secrets. It was brave of you to come here tonight, to share. The least all of us can do is honor that bravery by giving you our undivided attention. I didn’t do that.” She paused for a moment, her own concerns weighing her down. “You know, they say that addicts are selfish, that we don’t give other people the consideration that they deserve. That’s probably the truest thing I have ever heard, at least as it pertains to me. Even the way we get clean is a very selfish act, if you really think about. I mean, we track down the people that we have hurt and we apologize to them, and they are just supposed to forgive us. Maybe they aren’t ready yet, but they have to right, for our healing. Because we haven’t taken enough from them. Here I am, three years clean and still overwhelmingly selfish. I got so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I wasn’t the audience that you deserved. I’m sorry for that. I will try to be better in the future. But I can’t do this now.”

She went to gather her things and rise from her seat. “Why don’t you stay?” the group leader asked again.

“That’s okay Ruth,” Sara said, the name suddenly popping into her head. It had been a long time since she had been to this particular meeting. “I honestly don’t know how I can. That probably doesn’t make much sense. It doesn’t to me. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do this now.”

Ruth smiled. It was a sad smile, understanding. “Do you want to talk about it? We all have things that weigh on us. That’s why we’re here, why we share. Something brought you here tonight, after all this time, and I think that you need to talk about it. You yourself said it; it can be difficult to share. No one will judge what you have to say. You could start by telling us why you haven’t been to a meeting in so long, and then go from there if you want.”

Sara shot her a skeptical look. Everyone there had judged each other in some way at some point. Still, she held her tongue in an effort not to accidently scare anyone away with that observation, but looking around the circle, she could tell that some of the others were thinking it too. “It hasn’t really been that long since I went to a meeting,” she said. “Maybe too long but not that long. Actually, I’m not supposed to start with that, right? It’s kind of like confession; it is confession, I guess. There’s a script I’m supposed to follow.”

“You don’t have to follow the script,” Ruth said. The words came out kinder than Sara felt she deserved.

“No, I should do this properly,” Sara replied as she glanced around the circle sheepishly. “So in that case. Hi, my name is Sara, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi Sara,” everyone echoed.

“Hi,” she repeated absent mindedly. “Well, it’s been a little over three years since I got clean. This time. I had tried to get clean in the past, and it hadn’t worked out for me very well. That’s not an uncommon story. If I remember correctly, some of the rest of you have similar stories. Not to scare anyone who’s on their first attempt. Beginners luck really is a thing, or so I’m told.” That got her an appreciative chuckle from a few of the vets in the room. “Well, like I said, I’ve been clean for about three years. It’s been difficult to stay clean at times. Believe it or not, it’s not actually difficult right now. At least no more than normal. We all know that some days are harder than others, and maybe today was one. I don’t know. I don’t remember thinking about it at least. I guess I’m just afraid that… that I might be nearing the edge. I’m fine now, but you know how it can be. Once you’ve been clean for a while, it stops being about getting through the day and becomes about recognizing those signs that you’re in danger of putting yourself in a situation that could trigger you. I think I’m in a situation now. So I’m here. I think I came here because this was my first meeting this time around. It’s kind of like a homecoming for me, being here with you all. I’ve been going to meetings regularly, semi-regularly, and I found one that works for me. There were a few false starts, but I think I finally found a safe place. They weren’t meeting tonight though.” She laughed darkly at that.

“Why’d you stop coming here? If you don’t mind my asking,” Daniel asked.

Sara shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “When I very first started coming I met someone in group.” There were a few knowing looks around the room. “It wasn’t like that, actually. I had uh, quit my job when I first got clean. Quit slash got fired.” She chuckled darkly. “I just didn’t feel like I was in a place to help people. I feared, I think, that I might hurt someone, and that’s pretty much the opposite of the commitment that I made when I became a doctor. First do no harm. I was at risk of doing someone harm, so I left while it was still my choice to make. After I’d been clean for about a year, I thought that I might be ready to return to helping people. I talked about it here in this room, and after the meeting Brad told me that he knew of an opening where he worked if I was interested. And I actually ended up there. Since then, though, I have had trouble coming to meetings with him. I don’t mind that he knows, but there is just something about talking about my day in front of him. He was here first, so I thought that I should be the one to find somewhere else.” She paused for a moment. “I kind of came here tonight without thinking, and I was glad he wasn’t here. That sounds bad, right? It’s just the problem, the situation that I’m in, is at work. And selfishly I don’t want him to know. I don’t know if I’m afraid he’ll judge me or tell someone else. I just don’t want him to know.” She frowned to herself as she fell silent.

The circle around her was silent as well. It felt like a long time before Ruth spoke again. “In many ways, the very premise of this origination is to give each of us the freedom to speak to the daily struggles we all face on the road to recovery. What Sara here is touching on, is very much the reason why we share so much and so little about ourselves at the same time. When you invite someone from here into your life, sometimes it can cause problems with that model.” She turned back to Sara. “Obviously you say that you find it difficult to share now in front of someone that you work with. And you found a good solution to that problem. I’m glad to hear that you have continued to go to meetings since you stopped coming here.” She shot Sara that understanding smile again. “Why do you think that your job is now an impediment to your sobriety? Is this a new development?”

It was a long moment before Sara could form the words to respond. “It’s not exactly new. Like I said before, some days are harder than others, and my job can be stressful at times.”

“What do you do?” Ruth prompted.

“I uh… I work at Fox River, the prison. I’m the doctor there. You know, I’ve been there about two years now, and I can understand why someone might get burnt out so easily just by going through the day. Every day I see horrible things, some of the worst things that a person can do to another human being. And I don’t necessarily mean the inmates. I wasn’t prepared for that. I think sometimes some of guards forget that they’re people, the inmates. Obviously some of them have done horrible things, and they deserve to be there. But that doesn’t mean they stop being human beings. Maybe it’s just easier for me to see them as more than just their crimes because of what I do. It’s hard to patch someone up and not see that they bleed the same as you, feel pain like you. I guess I don’t really have to keep them in line though. I imagine that that’s a hard job. Most of those men are there because they have issues with authority anyway. I probably shouldn’t judge the guards so harshly, right?” She laughed a little to herself.

“It’s funny that I should be complaining about my job at all. Two months ago I actually thought that I was about to be fired.” She chuckled darkly. “It was a knee jerk reaction really. I wasn’t a model student, wasn’t a good girl, and so I think that when I got called to see the Pope, that’s the warden, it felt a little like being called to the principal’s office all over again. I was terrified. Which is odd because the Pope is actually a really nice guy. I think he could throw down if he needed to, don’t get me wrong, but he’s a good guy.” She paused, chewing on the thoughts swirling around her head. “And I was devastated. I really like my job. Everyone I tell that to is disbelieving, but I really do. I have days where it wears me down, where the violence is too much for me. But we all have days like that. The longer I work there the easier it gets. I remember when I first started a couple of years ago that one of the warden warned me that I would get a certain amount of attention being a woman. I don’t think I fully understood what he meant at the time, and it was difficult to deal with at first. Still is sometimes. Now though, it’s almost insulting if the inmates don’t hit on me.” She laughed at that. “It’s like a challenge, firing back at the stream of innuendoes and unsavory propositions. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been tempted. There might have been a point in my life where I could have been but not now. I guess I see now how working there can make you hard. It’s made me hard, or harder rather. I mean I can’t trust anyone there. My patients are liars and manipulators by trade. And I know how the guards, some of them, feel about women working at the prison. Sometimes I feel like they expect me to get distracted by one of the inmates one day and slip up. And there are certainly those inmates who think they’re skilled enough to try. But I’m not that woman anymore. At least I don’t want to be.”

Everyone around the circle was listening intently. She sighed deeply and frowned to herself. “I guess my problem is that I think I might have crossed a line. I was warned that it was a risk, and I did it anyway. I don’t mean that I think I might do something illegal. I think that I have gotten, or am at risk of getting, emotionally involved with an inmate. And this one I can’t get attached to.” She chuckled darkly. “I just gave this speech a second ago, and now I’m basically saying, oh forget what you just heard. It’s complicated. I don’t even know how to begin to explain it.” She shook her head and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. How had she found herself here?

“Just talk it out,” Ruth said. “What is so special about this situation that you’re afraid you have crossed a line? Start at the beginning.”

“The beginning? Well, I guess the beginning started in the warden’s office two months ago. He uh… he told me that someone needed to do a physical and psych eval on one of the inmates.” She shook her head and continued. “I don’t think that I can say who, just that his situation is a minefield. Sitting down with him wasn’t a prospect I looked forward to. Basically, I am the doctor that determines whether or not he is healthy enough to execute. I don’t even believe in the death penalty, and now I’m having to take a part in it. I knew, intellectually, that at some point something this could happen, but there’s knowing and then there’s knowing. The Pope gave me an out; I could have tried to pawn it off on another doctor, said I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t.”

The room was quiet as she gathered her thoughts. “I was forewarned by one of the guards, that he’s personable, to be careful. After all, this is a man who is about to die. I thought that I had heeded that warning. Now I’m not so sure. He refuses to open up to me, and yet I keep going back every week. The first time we met, a couple months ago now, it didn’t go well. I don’t think that he’s the type to want to sit down talk about his feelings, and he reacted to some of my questions. But like I said, I keep going back. I told myself that he needed someone to talk to. I mean he spends his whole life alone. And then he gets to die in front of an audience. Can you imagine what that must be like?” She paused. “He’s been less hostile to the idea lately. I think he has so much of his life forced upon him, and the idea of being forced to talk to me was like insult to injury at first, but that he might be able to start opening up soon. Which shouldn’t be a problem, but I did something bad recently. I fear that it might affect my objectivity. That bothers me, scares me. I got involved to help people, but I don’t know that I can help him now. I want to, so much, but I’m afraid that it’ll kill me. Especially with what I have done. Does that make me selfish?” She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears she felt stinging her eyes. “Oh my god. I am. I’m a horrible person.” The words knocked the wind out of her. ‘What kind of person thinks of abandoning a man who has next to no one, has mere months to live?”

“A person who see their own limitations,” Ruth said. “You cannot help someone if doing so hurts you. Maybe that is selfish. But sometimes we have to be selfish to survive.” She looked at Sara hard for an uncomfortably long moment. “You say that you did something wrong, something bad. Did it involve this inmate?”

Sara nodded, tears still threatening to fall. “Not directly. I…” The words stuck in her throat. “I slept with his brother. Not knowingly. But I still did it. I still wanted to do it again before I knew who he was. How do I move forward with something like that hanging over my head? I can’t get involved with his brother, not and remain objective.”

“What is truly bothering you Sara?”

The thought was difficult for her to put into words. Everything she had been worrying over since she had left the governor’s mansion, weeks ago now, threatened to escape, but the right answer to that question still eluded her. What was truly bothering her? All she could do was shrug.

***

Lincoln woke with a start but couldn’t for the longest time figure out what had awoken him. Everything on the cell block seemed quiet, almost peaceful in the night. He lie there for a long moment staring at the ceiling, hoping that the cause of his unease would become apparent. In all the years he had been here, staring at the same walls, Lincoln had never had trouble sleeping, and he couldn’t imagine why he would suddenly be plagued with insomnia. In his mind he began to count the days, trying to place himself in the concept of time. He’d gone out into the yard that night. That narrowed things down some. Sunday, Tuesday, Friday. One of those. Friday, he thought, it must be Friday. And Fridays turn into Saturdays in the night. What was so special about this Saturday? The thoughts raced through his mind, chasing each other round and round. Pieces fell into place, locking together into a picture that he was not interested in viewing up close. It was the first day of the New Year; his last year. He would never again since the world change from one time to another. The thought stole the air from his lungs. So little time left now. What was he supposed to do with so few moments remaining to him?

Memories flashed behind his eyes. His son refusing to look at him. His brother’s apologetic face as he explained that he had to go out of town. The doc with her notebook, curious expression, a question on her lips. The realities of his recent encounters with them. But other things came back the longer he lied there thinking. If only the doc were here now. She’d have a field day with all the secrets he had trapped inside his head. All those things he had chosen never to speak of again. So much he had left to think, to want, to feel. He didn’t want to die. But getting what he wanted had never been a part of the life Lincoln had gotten.

He thought suddenly of Michael, Michael and his plans, his dreams, his ambitions. His brother had probably been the only thing Lincoln had done right. Or at least he thought that he had. As much as he hated it, he remembered vividly the meeting with the lawyer, learning that he had so little time left to live. “Don’t worry,” Michael had whispered as they hugged goodbye. “Don’t worry, I have a plan to get you out of this.” The words rang now in Lincoln’s mind. A plan to save him, a plan for hope. Trust me. Believe me. Have faith in me. Those were the things that Michael thought he was offering, but all he’d given his brother was regret. Where did I go wrong? That was all Lincoln had been able to think in the moment. What did I do that would make him contemplate throwing his life away for me? It was too much for him to think about. He’d told him to stop, to leave him be. “There is nothing you can do.” The words had killed him as he’d whispered them back to his brother. There they had been, the first time they had been allowed that close, protected from the usual rules because the guards couldn’t monitor visits with his lawyer, and all Lincoln had given his baby brother was heartache. Just another time when Lincoln had failed him. I was always good at that. The thought was bitter, made worse so by just how true he felt it was. I’m not worth him trying to save; he should have learned that by now. Hours still from the light of day, the first day of the last year of his life, it was the only thing he was left to believe.

***

Sara set her things on the desk with a sigh. It had been a long weekend, so long that she had come into the prison early just to get out of her apartment. Going to a meeting was supposed to help, but it had only left her more confused. She had spent the rest of the weekend trying to answer Ruth’s question for herself. What was bothering her so much about the situation with the brothers? A sudden knock on the door jam jarred her from her thoughts. She turned to find Brad Bellick of all people standing in the doorway. “Burning the midnight oil?” he asked with a smirk.

It had been some time since they had come face to face. Sara had liked him once, back when they were still just two struggling addicts encountering each other in meetings. Now she wasn’t so sure that she was a fan. In the two years they had worked together, she had learned many things about the man that didn’t sit well with her. He’s fighting his own battles, she constantly reminded herself, though it hardly ever helped. Working at the prison probably didn’t help his issues much either. Not for the first time she wondered why he continued to work here as she tried to be pleasant. He had gotten her this job after all. “You’re one to talk,” she teased. “You don’t usually work nights. Why are you here so early?”

He shouldered his way through the half open door so it would be easier for them to speak. “I came in early since we have a couple of news guys starting. Wanted to be around to show them the ropes.” There was a long silence between them as he sized her up. When he finally spoke again his words caught her off guard. “According to the guards down in solitary, Burrows is asking to see you.”

Sara waited for him to voice the rest of that thought but nothing was forthcoming. “That’s a first,” she said at last. “Usually he is complaining that I won’t leave him be.”

Bellick scowled at that. “How long have you been visiting with Burrows then?”

There was something more than simple concern under his tone that she didn’t like. It also confused her. Surely the head of the guards had to know what she had been up to. “A couple of months. The warden said the DOC ordered it. Surely that shouldn’t be news to you.”

“That you sat down with him once, sure, but you shouldn’t be continuing to see him. Just sign the forms and be done with it.”

She bristled at the commanding note to his tone. “There is still four months left, and I don’t intend to sign something that I cannot fully back up. Once I have assessed his mental state, I will decide what is best.”

The response clearly displeased him. “Why waste your time? He’s getting what he deserves? Better than he deserves actually. They should have done away with him years ago. We have gotten away from the way things are meant to be. A man gets sentenced to death, you take him out back and string him up, be done with it. None of this coddling bullshit we insist on now.”

As often happened, dealing with him left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Your opinion is noted,” she replied instead of taking the bait. “Now, would you kindly leave, so I can get to work?”

He looked around at the empty infirmary but left her alone without comment. Maybe he was also trying to avoid a fight. Working together had been a mistake. When they were just two people on a similar journey of self-betterment she had found it much easier to excuse him some of his more vile beliefs. When he would complain about the inmates in meetings she had felt bad for him, thinking it must be hard to work in a place like this, but being here, seeing that she was right on that score didn’t help his cause but hurt it. She wasn’t sure that she felt bad for Bellick anymore. He chooses this. Surely there was something else he could be doing with his life if he was so miserable here. But was he? It wasn’t the first time the question had occurred to Sara. But it wasn’t one she planned to focus on now. There were other things that were on her mind. Like Burrows. The realization that Lincoln wanted to see her added to her unease about what she had done. Had Michael told him anything? Every moment she had spent talking to Lincoln came into focus. Did he know? Was that why he kept being increasingly hostile with her? The thought worried her. She glanced at the clock only to see it was still early. Would Burrows be awake if she went down there now? Bellick had said he’d asked to see her, but when? After a moment of indecision she sunk into her chair after all. It would have to wait.

***

Michael felt guilty as he settled into his seat. He had tried everything he could think of to get out of coming to New York, but there was nothing that had worked. This knowledge did not stop him from wishing this conference wasn’t going to keep him from being able to go see Lincoln. Being away only added to his unease about the ways in which he had already put the plan in jeopardy. How could he have let himself get so distracted? The look on Sara’s face when she realized who he was kept popping up in his mind no matter how he tried to forget her. She hadn’t shown it, but she had clearly been angry with him. If only she had known just how depraved his actions had truly been. There was no chance that she wouldn’t remember him now, and that was a problem. How was he supposed to gain her trust enough for her to leave him alone in the infirmary now? And if she didn’t trust him, even just a little, the whole plan would unravel.

In the last two weeks since they had run into each other, Michael had been trying to find another way through that issue to no avail. The infirmary was the best way out of the prison, of that he was sure. The only question was how to fix the damage that he had caused. What he’d done was beyond stupid. There was no excusing it. And now he wasn’t even home to continue his work to fix the mess he’d caused. The plan. That was what was important. The only thing that was important now. So why did she keep popping up in his head? Why did he want to make things up to her? It was a mess. He needed to stay focused on saving his brother. The sooner he could get back to the drawing board, the sooner he could push the thoughts of the doctor from his mind. Or at least turn his focus back on what mattered the most, the part she had to play.

***

Lincoln struggled to get comfortable on the bed as he waited for the doc to come in. The chains rattled as he moved around until his back was pressed against the wall. Now all he had to do was wait for their weekly session of torture. He had been dreading this for days. Why had he asked to see her? Things had been looking up for him on the front. The last time she came to see him, she hadn’t stayed much longer than it took to take his vitals before leaving again. It had been a nice change from her usual questions, but he suspected that she would want to make up for it by being extra curious this time around. And she’d want to know why he had been the one to suggest that she come back. The problem was that he wasn’t so sure now himself. It had seemed to be a good idea at the time, but now that the prospect was in front of him, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. Hopefully she would get whatever it was that she needed this time around and leave him to die in peace. Wasn’t it enough that he was going to die in just over four months? Did the prison really need to torture him on the way out as well?

As he sat absorbed in his own thoughts the door swung open to admit the doc and one of the new guards. Lincoln was fairly certain he had never encountered this one before but made no comment about the newcomer, instead following her with his eyes as Dr. Tancredi walked to set her things on the table in the corner. Over the time they had been doing this she had seemed to be getting more and more comfortable being here with him, but there was an unease to the set of her shoulders this time around that intrigued him. Maybe she had been dreading this as well. Lincoln looked at her curiously as the guard checked to make sure his restraints were on properly. Finally satisfied that the shackles were secure, the guard went to wait in the corner. That was strange. As much as he tried to consider what he might have done, he couldn’t think why she would have suddenly decided she couldn’t be left alone with him. His eyes flicked between the guard and the doctor. After a moment he decided to break the silence. “Doc,” he said.

Sara looked up from the notes she was scribbling at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Burrows,” she replied automatically. She turned to the c.o. standing in the corner. “You can wait outside.”

The officer looked at her. “Sorry, ma’am, protocol. One of us is required to stay unless the inmate is meeting with a lawyer since those conversations are privileged.”

“So are conversations with a doctor,” she pointed out. “That’s what the shackles are for, my protection.” The last bit actually sounded a little sarcastic as she said it. Maybe what was bothering her had nothing to do with him after all. Lincoln struck that from the list of possibilities he was compiling.

The officer looked uncomfortable for a moment, uncertain even. “I’m pretty sure I’m still supposed to stay in case he tries something.”

“But Lincoln isn’t going to try anything. Are you Lincoln?” This was said with the barest of glances in his direction.

“No, I’m cool,” Lincoln replied.

“See?” she said, not even bothering to look up from her notes, “He’s cool.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “Captain Bellick said you were not to be left alone with him under any circumstances.” She looked up at the guard sharply, something that Lincoln was careful to notice. The guard looked at Lincoln briefly before turning back toward the doc. “Do you not realize how long it’s been since he was alone with a woman?” he whispered like the cell wasn’t small enough that Lincoln would be able to hear him regardless of the volume.

“Yeah, last week. With me.” The doc looked over to Lincoln suddenly. “Unless you’ve been having conjugal visits I’m unaware of.”

“And cheat on you? Never.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think them through. He was glad that she laughed at that. Maybe things were getting easier between them despite his continued reluctance to open up.

“See?” she said looking back at the guard. “We’re perfectly fine alone. Patterson waited outside the door last time, and I’m sure it’ll be fine if you do the same.”

Her case was further backed up by the arrival of another of the guards, one Lincoln recognized. Stolte stopped at the open cell door. “We got a problem here?” he asked.

The new guard turned toward the questioning voice with the air of a man meeting his savior. “No problem. I was just explaining to Dr. Tancredi that I can’t leave her alone with Burrows. Bellick’s orders.”

Stolte looked at the doc. “You good Sara?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You heard her,” Stolte said. “We can’t stay unless she feels threatened or Lincoln says it’s okay. And those are the Pope’s orders.”

Reluctantly the c.o. left the cell, closing the door behind him. The doc stared at the closed door for a second before turning back to Lincoln. “Good morning,” she said.

“Is it still morning?” he asked without thinking. “I guess that makes sense. The zookeepers have only fed me once today.” He laughed to himself at his joke, but the doc didn’t even crack a smile.

She shot him an interesting look that he couldn’t read, but he filed it away to think on later. “Do you plan to be hostile again?” She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t look away.

“Regretting your decision to send the c.o. away?”

Her head inclined to the side as she surveyed him intently. Something was obviously turning itself over in her mind. “I don’t think it’s necessary for him to say. You won’t hurt me, physically. Emotionally, maybe, but I’m a big girl. It would be nice if you could be cooperative though. Make things easier on both of us.”

Lincoln considered that for a moment. “That might take all the fun out of it for me.” He gave it a moment before going on. “So Sara, huh? Somehow that is not what I pictured your name to be.” Despite this, he found himself starting to think of her as Sara in his mind.

To his surprise she said, “Your brother didn’t tell you?” She frowned deeply as if the thought was familiar to her.

That was the last thing he had expected her to say. He watched her for a moment from where she stood by the table and turned over the information in his head. Definitely something he’d need to think on at a later date. “Why would my brother know your name? I wasn’t aware that the two of you had met. Have you? Met.” Her expression was unreadable. Apparently she had divulged information she hadn’t meant to.

She continued to watch him for a moment, apparently weighing her words. “We ran into each other a couple of weeks ago at the yearly Christmas party my father throws.”

There was a finality to her tone that let him know that he should drop the subject for the time being. He made a mental note to grill Michael about it the next time he came to visit. “So what first, vitals or emotional blackmail?”

The doc rolled her eyes. “Vitals I guess. I tend to save my emotional blackmail for afters whenever possible.” She dug around in her bag for the blood pressure cuff and approached the bed. As always it was a little uncomfortable having her in his personal space as she sat beside him. He had to remind himself not to try and move away.

Once she was done the doc took a seat on the stool attached to the table in the corner where all her stuff sat. Lincoln was conscious of her flipping through her notes again, most likely looking for a blank page to write on. He stayed silent as she searched for a way to begin. “How are you today Lincoln?” she asked looking up.

He shrugged. “Same as always. You want me to recount my week? Let’s see. I woke up, paced around the room, ate the slop they shoved through the slot in the door of my cell, and went back to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat for seven days. And now here you are.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, I got to pace around outside for a little while a few times and showered twice. No visitors this week.”

Sara was scribbling fast as he spoke. He watched her silently again. Not for the first time since they’d started this he wondered what she was writing about him, but every time he started to ask he managed to stop himself. He was sure that he didn’t really want to know. “Your brother usually comes every week,” she said absently, not looking up from her notes.

“That wasn’t a question.”

It took her a moment to form her point into a question. She looked up at him as she spoke. “Why didn’t he come this week?”

She was obviously implying something. “You don’t have to read anything into it, you know. Sometimes people just can’t come. I’ve disrupted his life enough without expecting him to drop everything to come see me all the time. If you must know, he’s out of town. New York. Just a last minute business trip.”

She was silent, watching him carefully. “Still, I imagine that you wish he could have come.”

He thought that one over for a second. “Because I have limited time left?”

“Because he’s your brother, and because seeing him is probably one of the few breaks you get from the tedium of this.” She waved her hand around the cell. “But yes, you have limited time left. I’m sorry that you’re required to spend some of it with me.” She even managed to look sorry as she looked back at the notebook in her lap.

“Yet you’re still here,” he replied a little meaner than he had intended. “Sorry,” he muttered as an afterthought.

A heavy silence hung between them. Sara appeared to be trying to find a response to that. Finally she asked, “Do you want me to leave Lincoln?” Something in his expression made her go on. “Not a threat, a question. If you want me to go, I will go.”

His head hit the wall as he considered that. “And you won’t come back?”

“I’ll have to come back at some point. Officially, I have to come at least once a month. Then eventually it will be every week. In the end.” There was a long pause. “I know that it seems unlikely, but I am trying to help you by coming here. I can’t undo what is about to happen, but if you let me, I can hopefully ease things a bit.” He shot her a skeptical look. Her brow creased as they looked at each other. “I don’t particularly agree with what is happening here. Not that that matters one way or another. My personal opinions don’t factor in to all of this. But I think that the least you should have is peace in the end. I would like to try and help you achieve that if I can.”

“Most people would argue that peace is the last thing that I deserve.”

She inclined her head to the side. “I’m sure there are some who would.”

“But not you?” he asked in a mock serious tone.

“Not me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well I feel better already doc. Looks like your work here is done.”

She chuckled softly and leaned toward him, elbows resting on the notebook in her lap. “Look, Lincoln, I imagine that you might see me as a part of the process put into place to end your life, and I guess in a way I am. But that isn’t why I’m here now. I know that talking about your feelings does not come naturally to you, but talking might help you if you let it. Ultimately it is your choice. I imagine you don’t have a lot of those left to you, so after much soul searching I have decided that I won’t make you talk to me.”

He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye before facing forward again. “And if you ask me something I don’t want to talk about?”

“Then we won’t talk about it. Tell you what, you can choose. What do you want to talk about?”

Lincoln scoffed. It was hard to believe that she would actually let him dictate the conversation. He was sure the first time he didn’t cooperate she would get up and leave, but if he didn’t at least go through the motions, she would get up and leave anyway. For some reason being left alone was not what he wanted now that she was here. “Anything?” he asked, playing for time. “We can talk about anything? And I don’t have to answer any questions that I don’t want? That seems a little too good to be true to be honest.” It occurred to him that he was essentially looking a gift horse in the mouth. Weren’t you not supposed to do that?

“I reserve the right to tell you if you’ve crossed the line. But as long as you respect my boundaries, I will respect yours. Deal?”

He nodded. “And what you were doing with my brother a couple of weeks ago is outside of those boundaries?” he asked as a way to test the water.

The look she gave him was blank as she sat there silently for a time. Finally she spoke, “We ended up at the same dinner party, like I said. Anything else he would have to tell you.” She seemed reluctant to say that last bit, like there was something she wished Michael wouldn’t talk about. Lincoln made another note to question his brother at length the first chance he got. “For the record, I didn’t tell him anything we talk about,” she added suddenly after a long silence. “I wouldn’t do that. Everything you say to me is completely confidential.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. The thought of her telling Michael about their talks bothered him more than he could put into words. “You say I can’t ask about, so I won’t, but just so you know, Michael isn’t nearly as strong as he lets on. Food for thought in case you run into him again.” He considered the thought for a moment then continued on. “I don’t think he’s ever actually gotten over our mother’s death.” He could tell she was itching to ask a question about it but was holding off. He figured he should give her what she wanted after all; he was feeling reckless all of a sudden. “Maybe neither of us have. What was it you said before, that your relationship with your mother is formative?”

She seemed surprised for a moment that he remembered their first conversation but quickly recovered. “I believe so. It would be understandable to miss her certainly. Why do you say that you haven’t gotten over it?”

“Are you asking because you want to know for your notes, or because you’re curious what I think?” She was pointedly silent. He rolled his head against the wall. “To be honest, that just seemed to be the answer you were looking for.”

“Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear,” Sara said. He could feel her eyes boring into him though he refused to meet her gaze. “Do you think that you’ve gotten over her death?”

That was a difficult question to answer. On the surface he would have said yes, but somehow with the doc there looking at him Lincoln had trouble believing that was the truth. “It’s been twenty years. She’s been gone now for longer than I had her. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. “People grieve at different speeds, and children are rarely emotionally equipped to deal with death, especially the death of a parent. It would not be unusual for you and your brother to still be grieving her under the circumstances. Why don’t you tell me about her?”

Lincoln weighed that over in his mind. “There isn’t much to say about her. She was my mom, I guess. Then she got sick. She died, and we put her in a box, put the box in the ground.”

“You said once that you and she weren’t close. That must be hard for you now that she’s gone. Do you ever wish you two had been closer before her death?” Always with the questions he didn’t want to think about.

“There wouldn’t really be any point, right?” he asked. He shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I have wondered if it was my fault. The whole time she was dying…” He couldn’t find the words to finish that sentence. “You know, I went to see her every day when she was in the hospital. She died so slowly; it was awful. I used to want to help her, but I never knew how. I guess someone better than me would say and that’s when I realized that I wanted to become a doctor or some shit. But I never had the smarts for something like that. Been the dumb one my whole life.”

She was writing furiously again. For a moment the only sound in the cell was the scratching of her pen across the page. When she finally looked up she appeared conflicted about something. She kept glancing down at her notes and back up again as if she was struggling to find a way to go on. “You okay doc?” he asked.

“I have a feeling that what I want to say would be crossing the line for you.” He waved a hand in her general direction to let her know she could continue. “I… I get the impression that when you say that you and your mother weren’t close that you might be pulling your punches a bit.”

He shrugged but didn’t respond, so she went on. “I suppose that the way you talk about her reminds me of my father a little bit.” She paused for a second. “We’re not close; that’s not a secret. But it’s more than that. I sometimes feel like no matter what I do, it’ll never be good enough for him. We have never seen eye to eye on anything, and I have wondered, in the past, if maybe he wishes he had a different child than me, someone more like him who would agree with him and make him proud.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe you ever felt the same way.”

The observation was unnerving, and he had trouble looking at her as he considered his response. “I don’t see the point of all that.”

He saw her frown out of the corner of his eye. “I think that it hurts more. I know it does for me, and my father isn’t even dead. I have the chance to make amends still. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to never be able to tell him how much he’s hurt me.”

“But you never have?” he pointed out.

“Nope. Maybe one day I will. He’s not much of a listener, so maybe not. What about your mother? Do you imagine that if you’d told her how you felt that she would have listened?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at her for a moment. “I don’t… I can’t picture us ever having that conversation.”

“But she did hurt you.”

That wasn’t a question either. It weighed on Lincoln heavily as he considered it. He looked down at his hands and shrugged. “I wasn’t the son she deserved.”

“Did she tell you that?”

He suspected that he didn’t need to answer that question for Sara to know. “She was just angry. People say things when they’re angry that they don’t really mean. She just didn’t know what to do with me. I wasn’t smart or talented or interested in any of the things that she was. And I wasn’t a very good kid. There was only one way my life was going to go.”

“Do you really believe that?” She looked at him seriously.

He shrugged again. It was hard for him to consider an answer to that one, so he didn’t even try. “Michael is constantly trying to be the man that he thinks she wanted him to be. Every time he falters, it’s ‘what would Mom say if she could see me now’.”

“But not you?”

“Oh I can guess what she’d say if she could see me now.” He chuckled darkly. “She’d love this. I’m used to it I guess, but he’s never known her disapproval.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

He shifted around for a moment. “I told you before, I am not mad at my brother. He can’t help it that she loved him more than me.”

“I wasn’t presuming to imply that Michael was the problem. But that has to be hard, thinking that your mother loved him more.” The look he shot him was thoughtful. “I’m sorry that she made you feel that way. No child should feel unloved.”

He glanced over at her. All this talk was putting him in a dark mood, one he didn’t want to dwell in. “Why do people choose to do this?”

It was her turn to shrug. “To move on I guess, healing and all that.” There was a moment where she looked uncomfortable before going on. “At the risk of treading onto even thinner ice, I don’t actually think that it’s your fault that you had a bad relationship with your mother. You tried to be a good son whether you realize it or not. And the fact that you weren’t interested in the things she thought you should be, is not the reason you had a strained relationship with her. Our love for our children isn’t meant to be conditional on whether or not they fit into the box we believe they should be in. It wasn’t your fault Lincoln; it was her fault.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take your word on that,” he muttered.

Sara looked at him curiously for a second. “Tell me, is your son a lot like you? Aside from the angry young man part.”

He thought about that for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, I see your point.” He sighed deeply. “I’m not a very good father though.”

“You never really had someone around to teach you how to be one.” Her gaze was soft as she watched him.

“Doesn’t speak very highly of my son’s prospects then.” He knocked his head against the wall, looking off into the distance. “I don’t know that he’ll ever forgive me for this. All of this. He deserved a better father than he got, that’s for damn sure. His mom’s solid though, better than mine. Don’t know that I ever told her that.” His voice trailed off at the thought.

“Maybe you should. You said things weren’t great between you, maybe now is a good time to make amends.”

He sighed loudly. “That seems so final. Everything seems so final now.” He watched her write for a second. “What is it I say that is remotely interesting?” he finally asked.

“Sorry. Private,” she said teasingly. She was smiling at him for a moment before her face fell. “Look, not to bring up the obvious, but you’re dying. If there is something that you need to say now is the time to say it. That’s the good thing about knowing the end is near. I would imagine the only good thing.” She seemed to be teetering on the edge of revealing something but held back at the last minute. She cleared her throat and went on, “Not everyone will want to hear what you have to say, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still say it. Maybe write it down. You can give it to them or not. They can read it or not. That way you get the chance to speak your mind if you need to. And I think you need to.”

“That my homework teach?” he asked playfully. “Because I’m not much of a wordsmith.”

Sara tilted her head to the side and watched him carefully. “No homework, just a suggestion. You know, you don’t have to just write to people who are alive.” He looked up at her at that, and she shrugged. “Like I said, maybe it would help to say your piece. No one has to read it but you.”

He let the matter drop. “I think that I’m done,” he said, not looking at her.

“That’s fair. I appreciate that you humored me.”

He saw her gathering her stuff together on the edge of his vision. “You coming back next week?” he asked before he could think better of it.

“If that’s what you want.” She crossed to the door and knocked on the metal sharply. She was looking at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I guess that’s it then,” she added as the door swung open.

He waited until she’d turned around to speak. “See you next week.”

She paused for a moment in the doorway but didn’t turn around or respond. Once she was gone he had second thoughts about suggesting she come back. He laid back against the bed, able to move freely now that the chains had been removed, and sighed deeply. Now she was gone he was left with the darkness she had stirred up inside him with her questions, thoughts of a relationship long buried where it couldn’t hurt him anymore. He’d had the chance to finally get rid of her, to be done with her prodding around in his past, and he’d blown it. Par for the course. How else was that supposed to go given his track record? Everything he’d ever been involved in he had ruined. Why would this be any different? He thought about all her quizzical glances every time he had inadvertently revealed to her something he thought was buried deep inside. She had a knack for cutting through his bullshit that he wasn’t fond of, but somehow he couldn’t help being a little glad that she would be back. Even if she seemed intent on bringing back some of the most painful memories of his life.

***

Sara walked back toward the infirmary without a backward glance at the guard who’d let her out of the cell. The second she sat down at her desk the reality of what she had almost said to Burrows hit her full force. For once they had a good visit, better than any they had had before, but she wasn’t sure why she had nearly confessed to him. Just the thought that she had almost revealed a secret about herself that she had never even told Katie, her best friend, was enough to make her question her sanity. Once more she reminded herself that she needed to not get attached. The only thing it would bring her was heartache. She sighed loudly at the thought and looked around her office. There were files scattered everywhere. Deciding to reorganize had proven to be a mistake. Now all she had around her was chaos, always a warning sign of things on a downward turn. Work was supposed to be a distraction, but in her quest to stay busy, she was only making things worse. “I have got to get it together,” she whispered to herself.

Naturally Katie was close enough to hear her comment. “What was that?” the nurse asked, popping her head around the office door.

“Nothing,” Sara replied. “I was just talking to myself.”

She sighed again as her friend seemed to take that at face value, returning to what she was doing without further questioning. Sara wasn’t entirely sure why she still hadn’t opened up to Katie about her past. Maybe because she didn’t want her friend to look at her differently. It wouldn’t be the first time a friendship ended when Sara fessed up about her past. In fact, it always seemed to turn out that way, her so called friends judging her once they knew the truth. Would Katie be the same? How many people did they see at the prison every day that were addicts at some point in their lives? Too many for Sara to easily count. How did Katie usually treat them? She tried to rack her brain for an answer but none was forthcoming. The only way to know was to bit the bullet and do it. She gave a quick glance at the nurse on the other side of the glass. She could call her in here, suggest they get dinner or something. Sara could tell her then and just hope for the best. Maybe she just needed someone to confide in. She’d almost told Burrows after all. It would be so easy to just tell Katie the truth instead. But in the end she turned back to her work, pushing the thought from her mind.

***

Lincoln picked up the pen once more and stared at the mostly blank page in front of him. He had gotten about as far as Dear Lisa before words failed him again. Now he was even questioning the opening. Should he say that, Dear Lisa? Was she dear to him? Is that what those words were supposed to mean? Or did you just always start letters that way? In the moment he couldn’t remember.

He had no clue why the doc had said this might help him. All the prospect of writing this letter had done so far was stress him out. Every time he tried to put his thoughts down it didn’t sound quite right. It had been like this for days. He had never been one for words, never known exactly what to say, especially when it came to the opposite sex. Lisa was particularly an issue for him. All of the things he had done and said to fuck things up with her ran through his mind as he continued to consider the best way to begin. He was an ass. That much was clear from everything he remembered. Why’d she ever let me stick around in the first place? This was not the first time he had considered that question. The more he thought about it, the less he was sure of the answer. Maybe that was what he should say. Why’d you ever put up with all my bullshit? But you didn’t say things like that in apology letters, did you? He was pretty sure the answer to that was no. You were supposed to say things like I’m sorry and all that. He was sorry. That much was true. He could just say that, right?

Lincoln set the pen down again and frowned. Why was this so difficult? He had never really wanted to be different, had always been perfectly happy being who he was, but now he wished more than anything that he had the words to say, to tell her how he felt, what he would have done different if he could. Instead all the page in front of him did was mock his lack of clarity. A better man would have been able to just say how he felt. Hell, a better man would have been aware how he felt. Lincoln was a little iffy on the details of what he was supposed to feel as well. He didn’t hate her, that he knew, but he could never really remember being in love with her either. Certainly not like he had been with Veronica. But he really couldn’t say that. There would be no point in writing the letter at all if that was what he was going to say. But that still posed the question of what to say to the mother of his only child. No answer came to him.

After a moment of continued contemplation he rose from the table to pace the small bit of floor between his bed and the wall. His feet carried him back and forth from the door to the far wall and back again, his thoughts focused on the task at hand, the letter to Lisa. No new ideas presented themselves to him. Maybe he should pick an easier person to start with. But who would that be? The only other people he had in his life to write to were Michael and LJ, but somehow he wasn’t sure they would be any easier to talk to, not really talk to like he suspected the doc wanted. But at least he knew how he felt about them. He glanced over his shoulder toward the table in the corner, but the prospect of walking over toward it to sit again was daunting. Before he could make a decision the rattle of the flap in the door drew his attention away again. He crossed the small space and grabbed the tray before his food spilled on the floor, the letter momentarily driven from his mind.

***

Michael watched the bags go around the belt one more time, searching in vain for her luggage. A quick flight from New York to Chicago, and the airline had managed to lose his bag. It was just one more moment of frustration in an already frustrating week and a half. He had been meant to be back much sooner than this, but there had been delay after delay, pushing his return back first one day and then another. First it had been the weather in Chicago, then the weather in New York. By the time he had finally managed to book himself on a red eye flight he had missed another visit with Lincoln as well as two different meetings regarding the downtown project and an appointment with Sid. The last was a particular sore spot for him. When he had first put the plan in motion he had intended to be done with the tattoos within six months, but now three years later he still wasn’t done. Granted, he hadn’t known much about the process before he had begun, but the way she had laughed when he quoted her the original time frame was unnecessary. It still stung when he thought about it. But the reminder that he’d had to reschedule reinforced his desperation to be done. The clock was ticking. The bags circled around again as he stood there contemplating his options. Unsurprisingly his bag continued to not be among them. With a sigh he headed to lost luggage. God he hated airports. If he played his cards right, he’d never be able to board a plane again.

There was already an irate man standing at the counter when Michael arrived. The man standing on the other side looked beyond annoyed as he listened to the man complain. “What kind of airline is this that you can’t even manage to keep track of a few bags? It can’t be that difficult to load the bags on the correct plane. A fucking monkey could do it! Are you stupider than a monkey?” the man yelled across the counter. He was worked up that he was leaning toward the attendant, trying to phase through the barrier to get in his face. The couple that stood off to the side looked uncomfortable as they watched the display.

Michael rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. It would almost be worth it to never see his belongings again to get to leave right now and never hear the man speak again. He had always had a certain sympathy for the person who had to stand on the other side of the counter and listen to assholes like this all day. How could he not? He had been that person often through high school and college. People really didn’t realize how much shit you took when you worked customer service. Was it so difficult to be polite? Apparently for the gentleman looking for his bag it was. As Michael waited with increasing impatience he was gearing up for a second wind. “Well, are you going to do something or just stand there? You call this customer service?”

It was the finally straw. “He can’t do anything about your bags right now,” Michael muttered under his breath.

The man whipped around to glare at him. “You say something to me?” he snapped.

Michael couldn’t help but notice that the man was significantly shorter than him. As he came over to where Michael stood he came up to about his mid chest. It was like one of those little yappy dogs challenging a pit bull. He had never been much of a fighter, not like his brother, but a part of him wanted dearly to punch this guy just to let off some stem. It was wrong to consider it, but the image still amused him a little bit. “Yeah, I said that some of us have places to go, so if you would please hurry up so that the rest of us can report our bags lost and be on our way that would be very much appreciated.”

The man bristled at the response, clearly trying to make himself look intimidating. “I will not leave this room until that moron produces my property,” he shot back, inching closer and closer to Michael. The sight had to be increasingly amusing from the outside. He couldn’t help but glance at the couple watching from the corner.

“Well,” Michael replied, trying to keep his cool as much as possible, “Your luggage isn’t here. It’s most likely at another airport and will need to be sent here. You have to file a claim, and when they find your bags they will let you know. I’m sure if you had given him the chance to explain, the nice man would have told you that. But he can’t just produce your bags out of thin air like a magician.”

The man glared over his shoulder at the guy behind the customer service desk briefly before turning back to Michael. “And that is customer service? I have to wait to have my own things returned to me whenever the airline feels like. Well, I refuse to accept that. I will not leave until my bags are produced. And you are going to have to deal with waiting.”

Michael looked down at him, amused by the stubborn glare the man continued to shoot him. He was tenacious, clearly itching to prove he was a big man who could handle his business. The image of what that might look like cause Michael to chuckle a little, only adding to the man’s ire. Reaching down and bopping him on the head would have been a little like whack-a-mole. He’d always loved that game as a kid, but now was not the time to get into an altercation. Lincoln would have already punched the dude and shoved him aside, but Michael had always had more patience than that. He would simple ignore the annoyance he felt for now and get away as soon as possible. After a moment of thought he shrugged. “Fine by me. If you want to waste your time, have at it, but the rest of us have places to be, so you’ll have to wait to continue your tirade.” He glanced over at the couple standing near the wall watching this exchange unfold. “I believe that you were next.”

Both of the women were obviously having a difficult time holding in their laughter. They glanced at each other before one spoke. “No, you go ahead. Please.”

Michael nodded at her in thanks and walked around his opponent to the counter. “I need to report my bag lost.”

“I wasn’t done,” the man behind him grunted, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder and trying to pull him back.

“You seemed done to me,” Michael replied, shrugging the hand off effortlessly. “Like I was saying, I flew in from New York on Flight 845 landing at gate A26.”

The attendant looked at him blankly for a moment then turned back to the computer to input the information Michael had given him. “How long will you be in town?” he asked without looking up.

The first response that came to mind was something along the lines of ‘oh just a few more months’, but Michael managed to keep from blurting that out. “Uh…” he stammered for a second. “I live here. Sorry. It was a long flight, and I’m running on a severe lack of sleep.” He shifted uncomfortably again as he dug out his wallet and fished out his license. “Here is my address. My information should be on the luggage tag.”

The attendant reached out for the id without looking up and said nothing as he searched. There was a long moment where Michael could hear the man behind him seething before he got an answer to his inquiry. “It looks like your bags ended up in Texas somehow. I’m sorry about that. It was smart of you to actually put your contact info on your bag though. Some people don’t consider that.”

By his tone and the soft scoff of the man behind him, Michael assumed that the annoyed guy glaring at his back was one of those people. “It’s the smart thing to do, right? How long do you expect it to take to get it back?”

The attendant clicked around some more before looking up. “Two days. That okay?”

Michael shrugged. “Works for me. Thanks so much for your help.”

He pushed away from the counter and headed toward the door. The man he had argued with glared at him as he left but said nothing. Michael pushed past him without a word and left. The sooner he got out of the airport and home the better he would feel. He hated to think how much time he had already lost being stuck in New York all those extra days. What else had he missed besides his latest appointment with Sid? In the moment he couldn’t think. There was so little time left now, and he couldn’t afford to lose any more of it. He needed to go over it all again. Maybe it was time to reevaluate the plan after all. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but more and more it was looking like he didn’t have a choice. With a sigh he pushed the thought from his mind for the moment and walked on.

***

Sara paused in front of the cell, trying her best to collect herself. She knew that Stolte was watching her carefully and worked to keep her thoughts off of her face as much as possible. It had been a hard day. The altercation in the yard had forced her to postpone her visit, something that she found only made her trepidation worse. She had wanted nothing more than to go home after the hours she’d spent patching everyone up, but she had promised Lincoln she would come. Now that she was here, this seemed like a bad idea though. Every time she came down here it seemed to be just a little bit harder, the weeks passing, the days nearing closer and closer to Lincoln’s death. The memory of the last time they had seen each other was fresh in her mind, as was the memory of what he may or may not know about her and his brother. He had started to open up to her, and she had very nearly opened up to him too. A part of her hoped for a repeat of the former; all of her knew that a repeat of the latter was inappropriate. If she was going to cross a line with an inmate, this was not the one it could be. And that was nothing to how much she needed to avoid getting involved with Michael. She repeated the thoughts to herself three times before she nodded to the c.o. to let her into the cell.

As the door swung open she caught sight of Lincoln sitting on the bed, his back to the wall staring off in front of him, his usual position. It was much later than she usually came, but he made no comment about it as he turned to look at her standing in the doorway. There was no hostility in his gaze, possibly a first for him while looking at her. The chains around his wrists and ankles rattled a little as he shifted slightly on the bed. “Doc,” he said with a small nod.

Sara returned the nod as she stepped into the cell, careful not to react as the door shut behind her. The first few times she had come here it had been next to impossible to hide her unease as she was locked in, but over time she had gotten better at it. If Lincoln realized that she still felt unsure of this arrangement he never let it show. She was grateful for that. “How are you today?” she finally asked.

He gave her a shrug. Normally that would have bothered her, but now she couldn’t really blame him. It was a stupid question under the circumstances. He probably hadn’t seen another person for more than a few moments at a time since she had come to see him a week ago, the storm causing the warden to cancel visitation it was so hard to get to the prison. She let the quiet close in around them, crossing over to the table where she always sat during their talks. It had almost become second nature to sit there and observe him. She set her bag on the table careful not to disrupt what already laid there. Usually the top was clear, but today the table was decorated with a single handwritten page. The discovery gave her pause, his eyes boring into her back as she stood there very careful not to look too intently at the document and discover what it was. She wondered what it was. “My letter to Lisa,” he said after she continued to stand there. “It isn’t much, but I was hoping that you would read it, let me know if I’m on the right track.” She wasn’t expecting that answer. Even with a simple glance she was shocked to discover that was what his handwriting was like, words so tiny in places she wouldn’t have guessed someone could write so small.

The proclamation caused her to turn. Lincoln was watching her carefully, his expression masking most of his thoughts. She thought that maybe there was some hope in there he was trying to hide, but it was so strong that it bled through the facade. It was important to tread carefully here. Inmates were liable to ask for anything if they thought you would do them a favor, some of which was just as likely to get her into trouble. “I can’t smuggle letters out of the prison for you,” she reminded him. He hadn’t asked… yet. It was important to remind him of that all the same.

His brow furled for a moment. “I know that,” he said after a long pause. “I just thought that you might be able to help me with it.” His eyes flitted around the room before he spoke again. “I’m not good with words, never have been. I understand if you can’t though.”

Sara watched him carefully for a long moment. “You just want me to read it? And what?”

He shrugged. “Tell me if you’d be mad to read it if it was for you.” Again with the restless eyes. “Writing it has proven even harder than I imagined. Nothing I write comes out how I mean. I tried to be honest, but sometimes honesty isn’t the best thing. I just don’t want her last memory of me to be something bad if I can help it.”

She took a long moment as she considered what he was asking. All she needed to do was read what he had written. Could it be that bad to help him out with this? She had told him that she wanted to help him find peace. If this would help him do that, shouldn’t she do it? Somehow she wasn’t sure about that one. Against her better judgment she picked up the letter and sank onto the stool to read. There wasn’t much to review, only a few paragraphs, and she made her way through quickly. The handwriting was cramped and hardly legible in places, but it was easy to imagine that he had chosen his words carefully, each one placed in just the right spot to get his point across. Her eyes scanned the page slowly a second time, taking in each sentence and filing it away for later. Over all the theme appeared to remain the same, but she struggled to grasp what it was meant to be. After a quick re-read she set the letter aside and glanced up at him. The look in his eyes was almost eager. “Well,” she began, “it’s a nice start I suppose. I wasn’t really sure what you were trying to say though.”

Lincoln shifted a little on the bed and looked away. He was constantly looking away from her when they were speaking. It was practically a requirement at this point. “It’s my fault what happened,” he mumbled, his words so soft they were almost lost even in the small room.

“Is that what you really believe or what you think she wants to hear?” He frowned at the far wall instead of looking at her. It was difficult for her to find the proper words to say to him. “Look, Lincoln, relationships are complicated. Do you know the expression ‘it takes two to tango’? It’s about how no one person is to blame for all the problems in a relationship. I doubt you were solely responsible for the downfall of your relationship with Lisa.”

He shrugged and continued frowning at the wall. “What am I supposed to say to her then?” he asked.

His voice was rough, clearly upset, but Sara didn’t think his annoyance was directed at her this time. This couldn’t have been an easy letter for him to write. “You say whatever you want to say. You mentioned honesty. That it can be problematic. What are you afraid to be honest with her about?”

The cell was quiet while she waited for him to respond, the only sound the shuffling feet of Stolte on the other side of the door. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I told you that I’m not so good with words. How am I supposed to know what to say to her?”

Sara sighed, giving a quick glance at the page behind her. “Tell you what. Don’t think about it, just write what you feel, whatever comes into your head. A rough draft if you will. And you can go from there. As long as you keep thinking over each words, picking them carefully, you will never manage to tell her how you feel. Better to put it all on the page and edit later.”

There was a brief glance from him. “I can’t just say what I feel,” he muttered once his eyes were firmly locked on the wall once more.

“Why not?” she asked. This was probably one of those times she had was getting close to him opening up to her about what was going on inside his head, but just like with talking about his mother Lincoln was clearly holding back from admitting something. “I won’t judge, I promise.”

He shot her a skeptical look. “Everybody judges even if they say they don’t. Your very job is to sit there and judge me.”

“Your mental state, not you personally.” She watched him carefully for a long moment, trying to think of the best way to do on. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but it might help you to tell her, even if she never actually reads the letter. But we don’t need to discuss it further if you don’t want.” She opened the notebook on her lap, quick to find where they had left off last time. “What would you like to talk about?”

When Sara looked up Lincoln was looking at her curiously, like he was trying to read her. This was not the first time she had gotten the impression he was analyzing her too. “Just like that you drop it?” he said, disbelief clear in his tone.

She nodded slightly. “I told you that I would respect your boundaries.”

He nodded as well but didn’t start the conversation up again. Instead he said, “I hear it snowed a few days ago.” The words were thrown out so casually that she wouldn’t have thought anything of them if it hadn’t been for the tension in his shoulders.

“It did. Quite a lot actually, to the point that they closed down the airport. It was a proper blizzard and everything.” The statement alone appeared to relax him a little. She tried to imagine what he might have been getting at. “The guards did mention that they weren’t letting anyone out into the yard until the snow stopped and visitation was cancelled. I’m guessing you’ve been stuck in your cell all week.” She glanced back at the incomplete letter. “Is that what made you decide to take my advice?”

He chuckled at the question. “And you said you’d respect my boundaries,” he said, but it was clear he was only teasing.

Sara threw up her hands in mock submission. At least he was in a good mood today. That always made things easier when she was trying to get into his head, minimal emotional damage in return. “Sorry,” she said with a small smile. “I meant that to be a general question.”

He shot her a small smile of his own. The sight caught her off guard. He had never been so friendly with her before. “I’ll allow it this once,” he said but didn’t answer the question.

She racked her brain for something to say to him, anything to keep the visit going while he was still okay with her being there. Finally she chose to go with some honesty of her own. “I’m at a loss for what to talk about.”

There was a moment where he appeared to survey her closely. “Is that your way of telling me that you need to go?” he asked. It was difficult to say exactly what was hidden between his words.

“No. Just that I don’t have any questions for you at the moment. Is there something that you would like to discuss?” She waited with her pen poised above the page, ready if he decided that he had something to say. It was a long time before she finally added, “Of course if there isn’t anything and you wanted me to go…” She let her voice trail off.

Lincoln shrugged and glared at the far wall again. “Can I ask you something?” he asked carefully.

The question sent a chill down her spine. Was this the point where he told her what he knew? Michael hadn’t come to visit him, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t spoken on the phone. She kicked herself for not looking into that as she considered the way to respond. “You can ask,” she said just as carefully.

Her answer appeared to amuse him. “Why don’t you have anything better to do than come talk me?” he asked. He paused to consider his words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of pretty.”

“Kind of,” she said, those being the words that popped out at her.

“You know what I mean,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Surely you have someone waiting at home for you, and yet you’re here late just to see me. I’m just curious why.”

Sara rolled her eyes as well. “I’m not sure that it’s appropriate to discuss my personal life with a patient,” she replied. “But there isn’t anyone waiting at home for me, so you don’t need to be concerned about that. I said that I would come back today. Things ended up a lot more hectic than I imagined they would be, but I didn’t want to break my promise to you. Thus why I’m here.”

He gave her a searching look. “I appreciate that,” he muttered. “I would have understood if you hadn’t come though.” He gave her a quick once over, not necessarily in a lecherous way, but it still made her shift uncomfortably. “You should have someone though. You don’t want to spend your whole life alone.”

She took that in stride. “Is this where you try to set me up with your brother again?” she asked for nothing else to say. The look he shot her was obviously confused. Apparently he didn’t remember that particular conversation. “Forget it,” she said. “Anything else you wish to discuss?” she asked. “We talked about your mother last time.”

“Always a fun conversation,” he replied.

She chuckled despite herself. “Most people’s mothers are. Have you thought anymore about what I said?” There was that confused look again. “I’m going to guess not.”

Lincoln shrugged and opened his mouth to speak. A sudden knock on the door halted him from saying whatever he had on his mind. “Hey Sara,” Stolte said called through the door.

She shot Lincoln an unsure look before calling back. “It’s okay, come in.”

The guard pulled the door open and popped his head in. “Almost lights out,” he said, looking between her and Lincoln.

The announcement caught her a bit off guard. It was much later than she thought. “I take it that is my cue to leave,” she said as she rose. She hated to just walk out the door when Lincoln was clearly about to say something. There was a long moment where no one else said anything. “You know, I don’t usually come in on Saturdays, but I can come back tomorrow if you still wanted to talk,” she said with a quick look at Lincoln.

He shrugged, and she could tell by his expression that whatever moment they were about to have before they were interrupted was gone. “Don’t sweat it Doc. Enjoy your weekend.” He obviously tried to smile, but the muscles around his mouth didn’t seem to want to work properly.

She was at a loss for what to say in return. ‘You too’ seemed to be a bit misplaced under the circumstances. “I guess I will see you next week then. Monday, if I can. You should give the letter another try in the meantime,” she added with a nod toward the unfinished letter lying on the table. He nodded to show he’s her heard but didn’t say anything. The silence filled the cell again, Stolte waiting impatiently for her to leave. All that was left for her to do was gather her things and go. As she left the cell she couldn’t help the way her thoughts dwelt upon his words.

***

Not interested in going home to an empty apartment Sara headed back to her office to continue the sorting project she’d begun working on almost two weeks before. She had found that it was easier to push her thoughts to the back of her mind with a stampede of work to distract her. It was definitely not healthy, but she had rarely chosen to do what was best for her. Why would she start now? She’d even gotten better had ignoring her friend’s efforts to help her. In fact, after a long time of buckling under the pressure from Katie to rest, she was actually finding herself more than up to the task of dodging her friend’s well-meaning attempts to hurry her home. Even now she was very pointedly not paying attention to the glare Katie was directing at her back. Sara could feel her eyes but chose to focus on the files she was sorting through. “What are you doing?” Katie finally asked.

Sara was very careful not to look up as she responded. “I’m trying to organize the file cabinet. I have trouble finding what I need half the time. This seemed a good time to try and tackle it.”

“If you let me know how you want it, I can take over for you.” The nurse was watching her carefully from the other side of the room.

It was best to just ignore that suggestion. She knew that Katie meant well, but she didn’t understand how much the work was helping. Sara redoubled her focus as the other woman came up behind her and went to grab the files out of her hands. “I am more than capable of organizing a filing cabinet all on my own,” Sara snapped and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just in the middle of this, and it’s easier if I just finish it myself.”

Katie frowned as Sara glanced at her. “You’re burning the candle at both ends, and I’m worried about you. I am your friend after all. But if you don’t want my input, I can take myself somewhere else.”

It made Sara feel bad. She didn’t have many friends, and she was obviously mistreating a woman who had never been anything but kind to her. With a heavy sigh she set down her burden and leaned against the table next to them. “You know that I appreciate everything that you do, both personally and professionally. I'm just not used to having someone that is genuinely interested in my wellbeing. And I appreciate it, but I’m an adult. Please respect that.”

Katie scowled. “You’re practically falling over as is, and you can’t be any help to anyone if you wear yourself out.”

For some reason the comment made her angry. “I don’t know what you think that you know, but I am in control,” Sara said viciously. “I know how people around here like to talk, you especially.”

The other woman bristled at the implication. “I have never been anything but a friend to you since you came here, and I don’t think I deserve to be called a busybody and a gossip just because I dared to try to help.” It was a fair point, and Sara hated it. Before she could respond Katie continued on. “There were rumors when you started, some sort of nervous breakdown or something at your last job. But I respected your privacy and waited for you to choose to confide in me.” She glanced at Sara quickly. “Which you’ve never done in over two years. Maybe I have let it impact the way I have treated you, but it’s only because I like you and don’t want to see something happen to you.”

That made Sara feel like even more of an ass. She closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “You’re right,” she said. “I was unfair to you. I know that you’re only trying to help, and you aren’t wrong that I am exhausted.” The words caught in her throat. “But overwork is not my problem. I need to be busy right now, and I need you to respect that.”

“Is this about Burrows?” Katie asked, a very shrewd expression on her face. “You’ve been off ever since you started talking to him.”

Sara was tired of having this conversation. It had been months, and Katie refused to let it go. “No. It’s not about Burrows. I wish you would respect my professional decision to continue to treat him despite your continued attempts to persuade me otherwise.” Katie looked sheepish at that, and Sara scowled at her in return. “I suppose that is still just to protect me.” The accusation hung heavy in the air. She found that suddenly she couldn’t stand there and have this argument again. “You know, I think that you might be right. I am exhausted and should call it a night.” Without another word she slammed the files onto the table, grabbed her coat and left. If Katie tried to stop her from going she never knew it.

 

Michael shifted in his seat as one of Sebastian’s friends drowned his beer. Coming out with them had not been his idea but Veronica’s. She was one of his oldest friends, and when she suggested that he spend some time with her fiancé, he couldn’t bring himself to say no given how much he had been neglecting their friendship lately. He couldn’t even remember when was the last time the two of them had spent more than a few minutes together in the past year. So now here he was out at a bar with her soon to be husband Sebastian and his friends. He was not having the time of his life. Every single one of them was drunk. Michael had managed to stay somewhat sober, the liquor not nearly enough to block out his guilt and unease being here, but he was still starting to feel the effects as he listened to the guys around him talking continually. “How do you know Veronica again?” one of the party suddenly slurred in Michael’s general direction, pulling him from his thoughts. Craig, he was pretty sure the man’s name was Craig.

“Oh they used to live together,” another put in, this one even drunker than the first.

Michael opened his mouth to fill in the rest of that story, set the record straight, yet again but was interrupted by Craig. “Like together, together? Seb, you didn’t say that you were bringing out one of her exes.”

Sebastian didn’t appear to be listening, his eyes glued to the football game playing on the TV in the distance. Michael tried yet again to speak only to be interrupted. “Personally, I wouldn’t let my girl hang out with an ex that looks like him,” yet another muttered, elbowing his friend to get his attention. “Why’d you do something like that?”

“What?” Sebastian said, tearing his eyes away. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as his friends, but he was well on his way. “I was watching that.”

“We’re talking exes,” Craig put in. “Pete was saying that Veronica used to date…” His voice halted suddenly, a pained expression on his face as he tried to recall Michael’s name. When it still wouldn’t come he gestured vaguely in his direction. “This dude.”

Sebastian turned almost absently toward Michael as if he expected to see someone else sitting there. “Michael?” he asked, pointing to him himself. “She never dated Michael. Did she?”

“No,” Michael replied with a pointed look at Pete and Craig.

“But they lived together,” Pete added, draining the last of his beer. He burped loudly. “Shit! I seem to be empty. Waitress!” he yelled loudly, looking around him vaguely. “Where’d the hot chick go?” He turned back to them looking disappointed. “She took all the booze with her.”

Michael shook his head, torn between being amused and annoyed. “I think I know where she keeps it; I can go get you some more.”

“Can you?” one of them asked, completely in awe of this knowledge. “Would you?”

“Thanks so much!” Pete called as Michael got up from the table. “You rock Veronica’s ex!”

Michael rolled his eyes as Sebastian returned, annoyed, “I told you, not her ex.”

The voices were overlapping as Michael walked away.

“You shouldn’t let her hang out with him.”

“Braver man than me, that’s for damn sure. I wouldn’t let my girl. Would you?”

“Oh hell no! He is stupid fine!” There was a long pause. “What? I gots eyes.”

Michael rolled his eyes again and kept on walking. More than anything he wanted to duck out and go home but knew Veronica would be upset when she found out. The idea made him feel guilty but no less ready to go. His eyes scanned the room automatically, hopeful for a way to escape and saw her sitting at the bar. Without a thought his feet carried him over to her.

***

Despite her better judgement Sara sat at the bar staring at the drink in front of her. She had no memory of the drive over or even ordering the drink, but she was here all the same. This was probably the point when she was supposed to pick up the phone and call someone, but there wasn’t anyone to call. She looked around the room. It was a nice place, and she wondered why she’d picked it. Maybe it was just the first place that she had stumbled across. Whatever the reason, she really shouldn’t be here. A familiar voice in a dark corner of the bar caught her attention, but she couldn’t quite place where she knew it from. Her eyes brushed over the party sitting in the corner for a moment, trying to put a face to the voice, only to turn around to find the bartender looking at her curiously again. Probably because she was still just sitting there staring at the drink. “Wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Sara muttered.

The woman threw up her hands and walked down to the other end of the bar as the stool next to Sara was suddenly filled. She turned to tell who ever it was to clear off only to stop dead in her tracks. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this,” Michael said.

Suddenly Sara understood the expression ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’. Someone had to be fucking with her. Of all the times to run into Michael Scofield, this was not one of them. “Now really isn’t a good time,” she replied.

He was surveying her closely with those pretty blue eyes of his. The look was unnerving, making her fidget a little under his gaze. Maybe he’d leave her alone soon. As they sat there she found her eyes flicking to other parts of him against the express permission of every other part of her. He looked every bit the business man, still in his suit from the day, same as the last time they ran into each other like this. She was definitely a fan of the look. It occurred to her suddenly that he was probably more dangerous than the whiskey. Luckily she was saved by the bartender’s return. “You need anything?” she asked, bending over the bar to flash a bit of cleavage even though Michael’s eyes were still locked on Sara. With a probing look at the pair of them she added with a frown, “On the menu.”

“Yeah actually, my friends need another round.” Without looking away he inclined his head toward the group in the corner, and Sara wondered how she had missed he’d been among them. His must have been the voice that had caught her attention. Had she come to know what he sounded like clearly enough to know him in a crowd?

Without question they were left alone again. Sara racked her brain for something to say. Since he was obviously not making a move to return to his friends she opted for small talk. “Doesn’t seem like you to be out drinking,” she said like she actually knew him.

“Maybe I’m not the choir boy you think I am,” he replied playfully, leaning on the bar, minimizing the space between them.

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flicked to her untouched glass but made no comment about it. That was almost more unnerving than running into him again. “When’d you get back from New York?” she asked for want of something to say.

He looked taken aback at that. “How’d you know I was in New York?” Sara raised her eyebrows significantly in response causing Michael to chuckle. “Ahh,” he said, “You been talking about me?”

“You came up.” She looked away from him, careful to keep her eyes steady on the back of the bar. He didn’t try to get her attention again but didn’t move to return to his table either. Finally she had to ask, “Aren’t your friends going to notice that you’re gone?”

His eyes flicked toward the glass in front of her again. Why’d he keep doing that? “I think I’ll stay here.”

She twisted her fingers together. This was not a conversation that she wanted to have, especially with someone possibly sober enough to remember it. In a few more days she’d be in a room with his brother, and this was not exactly a topic she wanted to be broaching with Lincoln. Hell, she didn’t even want to be broaching it with Michael. “I was about to leave anyway,” she muttered. He let her rise from the bar without a word, but as she walked toward the door he followed. She shot him a pointed look over her shoulder, but it did nothing to deter him. “I think I know the way home all on my own,” she said. He still didn’t appear to get the point. “Michael, I’m fine. I honestly don’t even know why I have to tell you that.” The curious glances from the few scattered people around the room was the first realization she got that she had raised her voice. She looked sheepish as she glanced at them.

He stood there looking at her calmly; it was infuriating. “You’re going to go home?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The words hit her like a ton of bricks. “You… You…. You don’t even know me!” she said much too loudly.

“I know what destructive looks like; I have a lot of experience with it.”

The implication was sobering. She scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes. “Look, I had a moment where I stumbled, and I would appreciate it if you could keep that to yourself.” She found it impossible to meet his eyes.

He was quiet for a long time. “Let me take you home. It’ll put my mind at ease knowing that you aren’t looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle.”

Sara glanced at him. All she saw looking back at her was concern. As much as she knew it was a bad idea, she nodded and led the way outside.

 

As it would turn out, they ended up taking her car since he hadn’t driven to the bar himself, so essentially she took him home with her. She found it difficult not to think about that as she stepped aside to let him follow her into the apartment. “Sorry if it’s a bit of a mess,” she said. “I haven’t been home much lately. Do you want something to drink? Don’t worry, I don’t have anything alcoholic stashed anywhere.” Something that she had regretted once she remembered that the liquor stores were definitely closed, but now she was starting to remember that was for the best.

“I could go for some coffee,” Michael replied.

Sara ducked into the kitchen to fill the request. He followed her silently and stopped in the doorway as she bustled around the kitchen. Hopefully he didn’t think she was still at risk of slipping and would leave soon. It probably wasn’t a good idea for him to be in her apartment given their history. She glanced at him over her shoulder but didn’t say anything. The coffee pot was just starting to work as they stood there is silence. “Might be a minute,” she finally muttered.

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

There was quite possibly an implication there that Sara was very careful to sidestep. “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to stay.” It took an effort not to ask him to stay anyway. Yeah, he should leave as soon as possible.

He looked around the kitchen as she spoke. When he finally looked at her again there was a question in his eyes. The only sound in the apartment was the coffeepot on the counter. They stood there in silence, staring at each other for what seemed an eternity before he pushed away from the door jam and crossed over to her. As he came to a stop her lips parted in shock just before he kissed her. A soft little moan escaped her lips as her hands wrapped around his face, pulling him closer. His hands ran through her hair, their tongues brushing against each other softly. She could taste the whiskey on his breath.

Sara finally came to her senses a bit and pulled away. Their foreheads pressed together as she tried to regain control. His fingers slid through her hair as she cupped his jaw gently. “Michael,” she whispered softy, warningly. But there was no going back.

Both of their hands were straying lower, slowly touching each other in more and more dangerous places. She probably should have stopped it when his lips slipped lower too, but it felt so good the way he was brushing against her jaw. An uncertain groan fell from her lips. Her back pressed against the counter as she wrapped her hand into the tie that still hung around his neck. The dull ache from the pointy edge of the countertop wasn’t enough to distract her, though it should have been.

Instead Sara pulled, unraveling the tie. It swished softly as it slowly fell to the floor. The sound of his suit jacket hitting the floor was more pronounced as she eased it off his shoulders. She pulled him closer, wanting to feel every part of him against her, but was deprived of her goal as Michael’s hands circled her hips and lifted her onto the counter. He was panting slightly as he returned to slowly exploring her flesh with his lips. A small gasp filled the room when he kissed her softly behind the ear. It was too much. Her hands wrapped around his head, holding him close. The bristles that covered his scalp were rough against her fingers as his own fingers dug into her hips. “Oh fuck,” he groaned against her neck.

They stopped exploring each other but didn’t pull away. His head rested against her shoulder, and she could feel his uneven breaths on her neck. Even then the reality of the situation didn’t occur to her. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the top of the head. He looked up at her for a second then their lips were finding each other again. They both moaned softly as their tongues brushed together once more. Her stomach fluttered warningly as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her pants and dug into her bare hip. Now was the time to heed the reasons this was a bad idea. She tried to repeat them to herself, tried to remember exactly what problems could arise from this, but none of her excuses would stick in her brain as she lifted her hips off the counter to let him slide her pants and underwear off. The thud of her shoes on the tile echoed around the room, but neither of them were paying attention.

Michael pulled away slowly. His hand was resting on her bare thigh, fingers digging into her flesh. Sara’s head hit the cabinet behind her as he watched her with those pretty blue eyes she was already having a hard enough time forgetting before this. Without breaking eye contact he used his thumb to brush shallowly through her folds. Her lips parted a little, letting out a small gasp. She could feel herself dripping onto the counter as he repeated the motion, dipping just a little bit deeper. How’d she get so wet for him? She didn’t remember that. The events that led her here suddenly weren’t making sense. The only thing that mattered was that he was touching her.

Soft moans filled the room, his thumb slowly spreading her wetness around, making her leak onto the countertop even more. Their lips brushed together briefly, and then he was gone, down on his knees in front of her. She ran her hand over his head distractedly as he pushed her legs further apart. Her lips parted but no sound escaped as his lips brushed against her folds. His tongue touched her softly, and she squirmed against his mouth, wanting to be closer. Sensing her frustration, his arms wrapped around her hips, pulling her to the edge of the counter. Without realizing what she was doing Sara started to grind against his lips. A small puddle was forming beneath her as his tongue pressed into her clit only to be replaced by his lips sucking gently. “Shit!” Her fingers scratched against his scalp looking for purchase. “You’re going to have to grow your hair out if you insist on doing that.”

He responded by sucking on her clit a little harder. It was all too much for her. As his lips and tongue teased her folds she groaned loudly the pressure building rapidly. His tongue pushed inside of her, lapping at her juices, and she started to grind against his face again. Her moans were breathless, his mouth moving back up her pussy torturously. A quick swirl of his tongue around her clit had her walls fluttering around nothing. Fuck she needed him inside her! Silently she begged him to use those impossibly long fingers of his to relieve the ache inside her as he sucked her clit back between his lips. She was only vaguely aware of the word ‘please’ escaping her lips as half a moan, so close to the edge. He gripped her hips tighter, his tongue just barely brushing against her clit. And that was it.

Sara had to push his head away if she wanted any hopes of catching her breath. She caught sight of him still kneeling between her legs, face covered in the signs of her pleasure, and lost all ability to stop. There weren’t words for how much she needed to get him naked in her bed. Her skin stuck to the counter a little as she pushed herself to the floor, legs a little wobbly. He stared up at her for a moment as she rubbed her hand along his scalp again. She bent down and kissed him on the top of the head. “Come on. Your turn.”

Michael followed her dutifully as she led the way to her bedroom, so close she could still feel his breath on her. His lips brushed against her shoulder as they broached the doorway, but she deftly stepped out of his grasp. The air was heavy with intention as she pulled off the last of her clothes, her shirt and bra hitting the floor. His hands went to her breasts, rubbing her nipples slowly. They were tightening under his ministrations. “You know, you make me feel a little underdressed,” she whispered, fingers playing with the buttons of his dress shirt, the first few coming unbuttoned easily.

A hand grasped her firmly for a second, a strange look in his eyes, almost fearful, a hesitation she didn’t understand. But a moment later the hesitation was gone as he pulled the shirt over his head without unbuttoning it further. Sara paused for a second as she saw his chest, her fingers running slowly over the intricate tattoos that covered his chest and arms. There were gaps where it was obvious the tattoo wasn’t quite finished, but the main part seemed to be done. He was watching her carefully as she took in the ink. “Okay, maybe not such a choir boy after all,” she said.

Her fingers hooked into his belt and pulled him close enough to kiss. Their lips slid together fast, her fingers working even faster, pulling open his pants. He groaned against her mouth as she gripped his cock. She ran her hand along him realizing that he was bigger than she remembered. How’d she manage to block that out? After a moment of stroking him slowly she pulled her hand away to push the last of his clothing away. It was a bit of a struggle for a moment while he worked to kick his shoes off and tried to keep kissing her at the same time, but somehow they managed it.

They both hit the bed with a thud, Michael on top. Hands were everywhere, their bodies pressing together. After much frustration during their antics in the kitchen his fingers finally slid inside of her. The groan of satisfaction she uttered echoed through the room. He curled his fingers inside her just right and her hips snapped down in an effort to pull his fingers deeper. “Fuck you feel good,” he groaned, his thumb brushing against her clit.

Now that they were here, she wasn’t in the mood to be teased. She stroked his cock slowly, wanting to feel it deep inside her so bad. A drop of precome leaked from his tip, and she swiped her thumb across it, bringing the digit to her lips to lick it off. One day she wanted to see just how much of him she could swallow, but right now she needed his cock in other places. He appeared to have similar thoughts as he left her alone on the bed and drug through his discarded clothes. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him, noticing that the tattoos also covered his back though there was another gap across his right shoulder blade. It was easy to guess what might go there from the pattern of the rest of it. Sara tried to imagine it in her mind. After what seemed forever he turned back toward the bed. Her legs fell apart without her even considering it as the mattress dipped under his weight once more, giving him the perfect view of her glistening folds. From her elevated position she had the perfect view of his fingers rolling the condom onto his cock. She wondered absently if they were the same fingers that had just been inside of her.

But she had far more important matters to worry about as he crawled up her body. Her hands wrapped around his face again, pulling him down for a kiss. She didn’t need to tell him to hurry, that she didn’t want to wait any longer. He was already pushing into her slowly, the stretch aching in the best way. It was so much better than her memories of their one night together. She couldn’t let him stop now that they were here. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she rolled her own hips against him. They kissed slowly as their hips struck up a much faster rhythm. His cock slid inside her in the best way, the sound of their slapping flesh filling the room. It had been so long since Sara had felt this way. Reluctantly she pulled away from his mouth to catch her breath. His eyes met hers, his cock hitting deep inside of her rapidly.

A hand came down to cup her jaw, the light grip forcing her focus to stay on him as he shifted the angle of his hips. A breathy gasp fell from her lips. Something dark shifted behind his eyes while he fucked her. Every gasp and moan she uttered brought it closer to the surface. Her nails scraped down his chest as he drove himself inside her. She could feel the tension building again as her walls started to milk him. He groaned deeply, his hand slipping off her face and sliding between their bodies. The pressure on her clit made her jump against him. She felt so close but knew she needed it to get off. Even without her having to ask he knew what would make her feel good. She scratched him shallowly again as their foreheads knocked together. Her orgasm was right there just beyond her reach; the frustration to tip over the edge was mounting, making her desperate. His thumb was applying gentle pressure to her clit, his cock driving her absolutely mad. With a loud moan her orgasm swept over her making the muscles in her pussy convulse around his cock. He groaned as she got off around him. The aftershocks hit her body in waves, prolonging her pleasure. His thrusts became jerky, his breathing uneven. As he slammed his hips against her one last time his groans came out broken, unintelligible, his cock pulsing inside her as he got off.

He collapsed beside her, both of them trying to catch their breath. After a long moment he attempted to speak. “Bathroom?” All Sara could do to respond was point in the general direction of her bathroom. The bed creaked as he got up and left her to struggle to ease her protesting limbs beneath the covers. She finally collapsed onto her stomach beneath the covers and couldn’t find the willpower to move for the moment. Every part of her ached, but in a glorious way she hadn’t felt in much too long. A part of her waited for the inevitable click of the front door as he left her alone, but instead she felt the mattress dip under his weight as he crawled back into bed beside her.

Their shoulders were just barely touching as they lay beside each other, both on the edge of sleep. Sara opened one eye to look at him as his head turned to meet her gaze. It wasn’t an easy moment to press through. The weight of what they had done hit them both suddenly. “You okay?” he whispered into the dark, his hand coming up to brush against her shoulder soothingly.

She hummed softly, the words forming slowly. “I’ll be fine.” So many things were burning at the back of her mind, desperate to be said. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

He chuckled deeply. “You’re welcome,” he said uncertainly.

“No, I mean for earlier at the bar. Though that too,” she added, patting a hand against his chest.

Michael turned over on his side, the better to see her. The blankets were haphazardly strewn across her back just above her hips, and he traced a finger along the exposed skin of her ribcage. A deep frown creased his face. “How long has it been since you quit drinking?” he asked slowly, carefully placing the question. “You don’t have to answer that. Forget I asked.”

All of her usual evasions chased themselves around her head, but when she opened her mouth to speak she found herself whispering the truth. “Three years give or take. But alcohol isn’t the problem.” She opened an eye to look at him again, and he was just lying there watching, waiting. “Morphine.”

“Like the short story? Never mind,” he added at the confused look on her face. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It was stupid honestly. I got into a fight with a friend of mine, and I’ve been on edge lately. But like I said, I’m good now.”

If he was questioning her pronouncement, he didn’t voice his concerns. Instead he let her fall into an easy silence as his fingers continued to ghost over her back. She watched the rise and fall of his chest absently for a moment before breaking the silence. “What about you? Tell me all your deep dark secrets.”

He face was guarded as he looked up at her. “You mean you don’t already know all my secrets? Here I thought you’d been talking about me and everything.” The words came out teasing, but there was something beneath them that felt like a warning.

She found herself letting out an exasperated chuckle despite her unease. “It’s not like that. Really. Mostly we talk about other stuff, him, I guess. All I really know about you is that you’re his brother, a structural engineer, and that you apparently graduated high school two years early. Impressive by the way. Oh, I guess that your mom died when you were kid; I know that too.” He frowned at the comment. “I guess I know other things now, that your brother hasn’t told me,” she added teasingly, trying to steer the conversation away from such dangerous territory, away from the reminder that they shouldn’t be here in her bed together. That was a reality she would need to face, but for now she wanted this to last. “There are other things that I don’t know though.”

“Like what?”

“Like, how long did all that take?” She waved her fingers vaguely at the tattoos that covered his upper body. “I’m guessing it’s not done yet.”

There was that strange look in his eyes back as she asked the question. “I kind of lost track. Maybe a year, two, a little more. I would ask if you had any, but I think I’ve already gotten the answer to that.” His fingers dipped below the blanket to brush across the small elephant that rested on her hip. “Product of your misspent youth?” he asked teasingly. “All your friends were jumping off the cliff, and you figured you should jump too?”

She scoffed lightly. “What is it with you and your brother insinuating that I am some reformed wild child?” He laughed deeply at that, and she reached over to shove his shoulder playfully. “It’s not funny. I’ll have you know that I got it when I was in India.”

“Right, Doctors Without Borders. Not all teenage rebellion then.”

Sara shoved him playfully again. “I have to admit that it is a little galling to be judged for one tattoo by a man whose entire upper body is covered in some kind of religious motif.” She looked closely at the big tattoo on the center of his chest. “What’s all that supposed to mean anyway?” Her fingers brushed against the tattoo, taking in the image of the fight between the archangel Michael and the devil. “You know they’re brothers. That part of the story always got me. What would that be like to be forced to kill your own brother?”

He met her comments with a stony silence. After a tense moment she let her hand fall away from his chest. “Sorry, it occurs to me that was maybe in poor taste under the circumstances.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s odd being with someone who knows,” he commented.

She nodded. “Is that why you got all this? Because of Lincoln?”

He looked at her sharply, something behind his eyes that was surveying her carefully. After a moment he seemed to relax a little. “I don’t really want to talk about it, if you don’t mind. Maybe one day. Not today.”

“No, I get that. It’s personal. Sorry I pried.” It took him a long time to nod in response. “Do you need to go?” she whispered as his fingers began to ghost across her back again. “Not to say I’m trying to rush you off,” she added hurriedly. Her head popped up enough to see the clock across the room, finding it was later than she thought. “I know it can be awkward sleeping over. I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

He looked over his shoulder to see what time it was himself, a little after one in the morning. “You assume that I’m done with you,” he said with a laugh as he turned back to look at her. “Besides, I live close. Very short walk of shame come morning.”

She sighed contently. “Good,” she whispered, reaching out to him as she flipped over onto her side. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her towards him. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep in his arms despite her racing thoughts.

***

It was only a few hours later when Michael awoke again. He realized instantly that he wasn’t alone as he continued to snooze a little, half dazed as sleep and the little bit of booze he’d drunk overrode his system. He tried to take inventory of the things that he knew or could remember. A warm body was curled up beside his own in a bed that did not feel familiar, distracting his thoughts, making him forcefully aware that he was hard. It took a moment for the events of the last few hours to present themselves to him. Everything came back in flashes, the bar, Sebastian and his drunk friends, Sara sitting in front of a drink about to slip, following her home, the delicious sounds he’d made fall from her lips. They’d gone to her place, right? Surely he hadn’t been drunk enough to take her to his apartment. His eyes snapped open suddenly, scanning his surroundings. The room was dark, but from what could be seen, it appeared foreign to him. That was a relief. At least he hadn’t taken her home with him. In the dim light he could just make out the basic outline of the person curled up beside him, his arms draped around her like they belonged together. Her hair had fallen around her face, hiding it from him, but he was sure he knew who he was in bed with. There was no chance he had ended up in bed with someone else after he’d left. He groaned into her shoulder as he considered the situation he’d managed to get himself into. A quick look beneath the covers confirmed his suspicions that they were both naked. That left little room for debate over what they had been doing. So he had slept with her again. Great. Another groan fell from his lips. At least she knew who he was this time. That thought didn’t help him much. He still wasn’t being completely honest with her even if she thought he was. What had he been thinking of? He remembered clearly enough that he had been the one to start it this time. The memory of his lips on hers came back to him as he laid there beside her, followed by memories of his lips other places as well. He could remember vividly the way she’d moaned as he tasted her, the memory so forceful he could practically taste her on his tongue still. Despite everything the thought only made him harder. Now was the time to get out of her bed and go before he got it into his head to do something crazy like taste her again. And he very much wanted to taste her again. Slowly he worked his arm out from under her, trying hard not to wake her up. A soft groan issued from her side of the bed as he moved in spite of his efforts. She tried to ask him a question, but with her face buried in the pillow it came out so muffled that he only caught a single word, ‘wrong’. It was fairly easy to guess what she was asking though. “Nothing’s wrong,” he whispered back. “I just need to go home.”

Sara groaned again, rolling closer to him, chasing his warmth. Her ass rubbed against him as she shifted, causing friction on his cock that he did not need. A soft growl came out of the back of his throat. “I really got to go,” he repeated. Though he draped an arm around her hips again, pulling her full against his body despite his words. He rubbed his cock against her ass without thinking, the friction so nice in the moment that he couldn’t bring himself to remember why it was such a bad idea. It didn’t help any when she responded by pushing her hips back against him.

“Stay,” she mumbled, rubbing her ass on his cock slowly. Her head turned to look at him over her shoulder, eyes still groggy with sleep but intent.

He wanted to stay but knew that he shouldn’t. Even knowing wasn’t doing much to get him out of her bed though. His fingertips dug into her hip, trying to still her movements so that he could think, but the groan she gave in response was just as deadly. “Sara,” he said warningly.

But even as he spoke his hand slipped between her thighs, two fingers sliding into her easily. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was still affected by their earlier activities. The rhythm of his fingers was agonizingly slow, clearly frustrating by the annoyed gasps that fell from her lips. He loved the all the little sounds she made as he gave her pleasure. Nuzzling his face into her neck he whispered into her skin. “How’d you get so wet, huh?”

She groaned softly. “You know how.” Her hips pushed down against his hand, trying to pull his fingers deeper. “Enough of this,” she groaned again, “I need you inside me.” She punctuated the request by rubbing her ass against his cock once more.

The thought was all consuming for a moment, but he knew it wasn’t to be and let out a frustrated grunt. “Wish we could,” he said, with regret. “Want to so bad.” She didn’t ask him to explain. Next time he would have to make sure and bring more condoms. Another groan fell from his lips at the thought. There couldn’t be a next time; there shouldn’t have even been a this time. But he couldn’t just leave with her dripping onto her thighs at the thought of him. If this was the only time, the last time, he had to taste her again. “Roll over,” he whispered into her flesh, his fingers easing out one last time.

She had barely made it onto her back, before he was pursuing his goal, her legs falling open for him effortlessly. One slow swipe of his tongue through her folds was enough to have him rutting against the mattress, imaging how he was going to make her fall apart slowly, prolong this as long as possible. She tasted so much better than he remembered from mere hours before. He could stay there between her legs for hours if she would let him. There were so many things he would do to her if she would let him. More thoughts that he needed to push from his mind. But for now all he wanted was to have her clit twitching against his tongue, her moans filling his ears. She sounded so good for him as he worked to achieve just that, her excitement dripping onto the bed beneath her. Her gasping moans were the only thing he allowed himself to focus on, endeavoring to pull more and more from her. In another life they would never leave this bed. He would have her beneath him night and day until neither of them could take anymore. The thought made him second guess his decision to go slow. He could always make her come a second time, he thought as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. A shocked gasp was issued above him, and he had to resist the urge to look up to see the expression on her face. She needed to gasp like that because of him more often. Her hand came down and wrapped around the back of his head, softly pushing his face harder against her dripping pussy. He breathed in the smell of her, his tongue slipping through her folds, dipping down to taste her direct from the source. What he wouldn’t give to be able to get used to this. “Shit,” she groaned. “Fingers, please.”

She sounded so pretty when she begged that he couldn’t resist her. And the moan she gave him when he slid his fingers back inside her was even prettier. Her walls clung to them tightly, making him regret once again that he wouldn’t get to feel her getting off around his cock again. He distracted himself from the thought by wrapping his lips around her clit once more. Timing the pumping of his fingers with the movement of his lips he sucked gently. She squirmed beneath him, the pleasure he was causing her obvious now on his fingers and his face. She was so wet now that her juices dripped down his wrist as he pressed the tip of his tongue against her clit, fingers hooking inside her. A frustrated moan sounded out from deep in her throat. It was clear that she was right on the edge, anxious to fall over into complete oblivion. He wanted to give that to her so bad, wanted to leave her completely spent when he finally crawled away. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he sucked much harder than before, pulling her closer and closer to her peak. The grip on his fingers strengthened, her walls pulsing wildly. Her hand slid lower, her nails digging into his shoulder. She was quiet as he pushed her over, only letting out rapid pants as she fell apart. Before she had even ridden out all of the aftershocks, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, wanting to taste her orgasm on his tongue. The juices were sweet as he lapped them up, a taste he wanted to remember for as long as possible. Finally he pulled his face away, crawling up her body to hover over her. She was still struggling to catch her breath but met his gaze just the same. His cock hung dripping between them, just dying to be touched. “I really gotta go,” he whispered reluctantly. He certainly didn’t want to go, but knew that it was for the best.

Before he could crawl away though she reached up and fisted him gently. A breathless moan fell from his lips. He wasn’t sure that he could take much. The taste of her had excited him far more than he would have thought possible. Her hand slid over him slowly, grip firm but unhurried. Maybe she wanted to torture him. The idea left him panting, balls already clenching. If she wanted him to beg, he wasn’t above it. “Fuck!” The word came out involuntarily.

She chuckled softly, strokes still slow. “What’s gotten you so worked up baby?” she whispered.

The way she called him baby made his balls clench even harder. “You,” he barely got out, scarcely audible.

“What about me?” Her grip tightened as she asked the question, squeezing him in just the right way.

It was hard for him to form words. “I…” he began, panting softly. “I love the way you taste.” He caught her eye sheepishly at the confession like he was still a school boy talking to his first crush. Of course his first crush hadn’t gripped his cock like this and made him so near coming he couldn’t think straight.

She moaned softly, the idea clearly turning her on. His forehead dipped down to rest against her own. “You close baby?” she asked.

He nodded, though he suspected she didn’t need to be told. “So close.”

A content hum could be heard in her throat at the answer. She reached a hand down and gripped his ass suddenly, half holding half pushing him to crawl up her body. “Come closer,” she whispered as she helped guide him up her body. He stopped half way up her body, resting on his knees with a hand gripping the headboard to keep his balance. “That’s it,” she whispered, stroking him a little faster. “What would you do if I decided I wanted to taste you?” she asked.

“I’d come down your throat.” The words were out of his mouth before he could consider them, but rather than upset her, his words seemed to please Sara.

“Another time then,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. Her grip redoubled, hand moving rapidly over him. “I guess you’ll just have to be a good boy and come on my tits for me.”

He groaned at her words. And at how much he wanted to do just that. Just a few more strokes and they would both get their wish. So close. But then she twisted her wrist, pulling his cock just right, and he didn’t even last that long, his come squirting across her chest as his cock jerked in her fist. He groaned loudly, knuckles white against the headboard as he looked down and saw his come splash across her breasts. She brushed her thumb along his slit absently, making him jump with oversensitivity. “Shit!” he groaned, barely able to move to sit beside her on the bed as he caught his breath. Now that he was no longer distracted by want he could remember clearly the need to escape though he found it difficult to do so. “I… uh…” he began, ashamed of himself before the words even left his lips.

“Got to go,” she finished for him. To his surprise she sounded half asleep. “It’s all good. This was nice, fun,” she mumbled.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were closed, breathing evening out as she fell back asleep. It was tempting to stay and watch her for a moment, but he knew that now was his best chance of sneaking out. Though he hated to do it, there wasn’t a much better way. Come the morning light they would have to face what they had done… again. Better he wasn’t here when she woke up. Even with that knowledge in his mind he was still ashamed of himself as he quietly pulled his clothes back on and eased out of the bedroom. He was almost out the door when he saw the pad of paper lying on the table by the phone. A long moment passed as he stood there and considered something far more reckless than even the events of that night. He should just go now before he did anything stupid. Just walk out the door and never look back. But he didn’t. There was little chance of looking back now.

The choice made, the dead done, Michael finally left her apartment building, the cool air biting against his flesh sobering. A part of his whispered to go back, undo things before she woke up, as he walked the few blocks to his own place. It was much too cold to be walking, but he hoped that the chill would wake him up, if not literally at least figuratively. He needed a reminder of what was at stake, that his decision was reckless, that he should have gotten his attraction to the good doctor out of his system by now. But even with the cold closing in around him as he walked, he still found himself getting hard at the memory of her sleeping softly, his come drying across her tits. And when he finally made it home and closed the door behind him and crawled into his own bed at last, he found himself thinking of her as he fisted his cock, the taste of her still on his lips.

***

The next morning Sara woke up alone, the events of the night before still hazy as her brain struggled to regain full function. Her bed felt so empty without him in it, and she wondered if all of it had been a dream. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had had that particular dream about Michael Scofield, but she couldn’t recall her dreams ever being quite so vivid before. As she laid there staring at the wall, still on the edge of sleep, the idea that it was a dream was both devastating and a blessing all at once. At least if she had only dreamt of him she wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions of the night before. But there was a pleasant ache inside her as she slowly rolled over and the sheets smelled different. And she was definitely naked, a good sign her memory of their deeds was genuine. She let out a soft groan at the thought, images of the night before playing through her mind. They were good memories, ones she knew would come in handy at a later date. Part of her wanted to stay and bed and relieve every single moment willing to present itself to her but knew it was probably time to get out of bed.

She rolled over with a frustrated groan, her eyes falling onto the bedside table in search of the clock. In her groggy state she had trouble processing what she was seeing as her hand reached out to seize the little paper bird staring back at her. The word origami floated to the surface of her mind while she turned the object over and over in her hands. It was an odd gift to leave behind, especially since he had clearly snuck out before she woke up. Why would he have left her a present if he wanted to flee the scene of the crime? She vaguely remembered him leaving now that she thought of it, but that seemed like even more of a dream than the rest of it. The more she thought of it, the more she feared that she had completely made up their early morning tryst as she turned the figure over in her hands, examining it. Now that part would have been a tragedy; it was her favorite part. But had it even happened though? Probably not. Just another fantasy cooked up by her sex starved mind. Her fingers played with the wings absently, turning her thoughts to wondering how he’d learned to fold the paper properly, suddenly revealing the phone number written neatly on the side. No message, just the number. She stared at it for a long time, wondering if she should call him or not, before she finally pulled herself from the bed. With some reluctance she set the origami figure back on her bedside table and walked towards the bathroom in all naked glory. Her feet echoed on the tile as she flipped the switch, seeing her reflection in the mirror for the first time. A small smile formed on her lips as she caught sight of her chest. Apparently he was not a dream after all. The thought pleased her, though she knew it shouldn’t. She gave a content sigh before jumping in the shower.

***

Lincoln took a seat at the table once more, a blank page staring out at him. He had spent all of the day before considering if he even wanted to go through with this. The doc had said it wasn’t homework, but what if she really expected him to have something for her when she came back? Monday, she had said. She would tried to come back on Monday. Now that Monday was tomorrow too, it was imperative that he at least show the he had given her advice some thought. And he had been thinking about it, almost to the distraction of everything else. He thought about it now, what Sara had said about just writing what he felt and editing it later echoing in his head as the page stared out at him. A part of him wanted so bad to do that, to just say everything that popped into his mind, but something still held him back. What if all he had to say to her was awful? What if there was nothing that she might want to read after all the effort he put into writing this? The thought haunted him as he tried to put his ideas into some sort of order. Nothing seemed to be too awful as it ran through his mind, but he had never been an expert when it came to things like that. There was only one way that he would know, if he just started writing. As scary of a concept as that was, maybe something would come of it. Maybe not. He was just supposed to get things off his chest. That was all. It didn’t matter if she ever read the letter or not. He reminded himself of that a couple of times, and after a long moment of consideration he picked up the pencil and began to write.

***

Sara sat on the couch staring at the origami swan sitting on her coffee table. She had done pretty much nothing else since she had woken up to find it in Michael’s absence. It had been a long weekend of fighting the urge to call him. A million reasons to pick up the phone chased themselves through her mind, but no matter how much she was tempted, she was determined not to call him. “It was a onetime thing,” she whispered to herself yet again. “Okay, two time thing, technically.” Still, she wanted to call him.

As she sat there she tried to remind herself of all the reasons that she couldn’t start a relationship with Michael Scofield. His brother was her patient. It could be construed as a conflict of interest if she was involved with an inmate’s brother, especially this inmate. Not to mention, when Lincoln was executed in four months that would certainly be the end of it. How could they continue to have a relationship with something like that hanging over their heads? Then she would have compromised her professional ethics for a few months of good sex. Okay, great sex. The point still stood. She had agreed to try and help Lincoln come to terms with what was coming, and she needed to fulfill that commitment first and foremost. Somehow. The only question was how.

The buzzer suddenly invaded her thoughts, and she got off the couch to see who was at the door. “Hello,” she said into the box on the wall.

“It’s your father; let me up,” Frank Tancredi’s voice said through the speaker.

Sara pressed the button to unlock the front door and waited for her father to make his way up to her apartment. All the things she had done lately chased themselves around her head, wondering what she must have done to upset him this time. She was still trying desperately to figure out what she must have done that was bad enough to bring her father to her apartment in the middle of night when a sharp rap on the door alerted her to his presence. “Dad,” she said pleasantly as the door swung open. “Come in.”

The governor stepped over the threshold without a word and looked around the apartment. It made Sara wish that she had been warned that he was coming so she could’ve picked up some. “Sorry for the mess. I’ve been working long hours the last few weeks.”

“I heard something about that. There was a riot at the prison?” His tone was cold as he fixed her with a stare that matched.

She racked her brain for what he could mean. The incident on Friday? “I wouldn’t call it a riot. Some of the inmates had an altercation in the yard. There were some cuts and scrapes and broken bones, but the guards had a handle on the situation the whole time.”

Her father glared at her pointedly. “I heard a rather different story. That this altercation, as you call it, turned very serious, and that you got involved.”

She sighed loudly, “I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.” She glared at him. “I wasn’t involved really. I helped patch up everyone up after. That’s my job. You may remember that. I know that you disagree with my choices, but I can take care of myself.” She met his stare with one of her own.

“You know that I only wish you would see how you’re hurting yourself working at that place. No one is forcing you to be there.” There was even a hint of sincerity when he said it. They had never seen eye to eye, but Sara had to admit that her father did care about her. “You could work anywhere,” he added.

She tried to gather her nerve for the usual argument. “I work where I want to work. Maybe one day that will change, but for now Fox River is where I want to be, need to be.”

“So you can have weekly chats with Lincoln Burrows?”

The question caught her off guard. So that was why he was here, not concern for her safety after a violent incident at the prison. “Of course,” she muttered to herself. “Well let’s have it. How am I damaging your sterling reputation this time?” she asked with a sigh. She should have realized that it would get back to her father that she was still treating Lincoln.

“He’s a murderer.”

“Not the only one I’ve treated. Just the first one that you’re going to murder in turn.”

Her father scowled at that. “We have already had this discussion. You cannot tell me that you don’t see the conflict of interest in treating a man who murdered the vice president’s brother.”

She shrugged. “People always put it like that, like the identity of the victim makes it all the worse. As far as I remember, the crime was personal not political. So he might as well have been anyone’s brother. Tragic that he lost his life, but he’s not the only one. People die every day, and you don’t given a shit about them. Lincoln is about to die, and you certainly don’t care about him.”

The governor scoffed at that. “I will never understand how you can feel sympathy for people like that. They are the only ones to blame for where they end up. Burrows senselessly murdered a man and deserves to pay for that.”

“By being murdered? Do you honestly not hear the hypocrisy of what you’re saying? It’s not okay to kill someone unless they killed someone else. Never mind that every argument for the death penalty has been disproven, from the money it does not save the taxpayers to the fact that it does not act as a deterrent. When you advocate the death penalty you are placing the fate of a human being in the hands of other people. And people make mistakes. You can’t bring a dead man back to life if you find out he’s innocent.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “You think Burrows is innocent now? That’s what he’s been telling you in your private chats, the ones I made it clear were to stop?”

“No. I just think that we shouldn’t be allowed to end someone’s life based on a fallible system. And what Lincoln says to me is none of your business.” She had lost count of the number of times she had made this argument. Why she continued to try and make him see sense was a mystery to her.

The governor looked taken aback. “Why do you have to be this way?”

“Because I’m capable of forming my own opinions.”

He sighed deeply. “You can’t continue to see Burrows. Aside from the fact that you are my daughter, there is no reason for him to need a doctor. As far as I can tell from the DOC reports, he is perfectly healthy.”

“And his mental health?” Sara knew that it was a worthless attempted. Her father didn’t believe in care for people who were mentally ill any more than he cared about the poor.

And sure enough, he did not disappoint. “His mental health not a concern. If he is struggling to come to terms with his impending death, that is not the state’s problem. I would even say the better. His victim wasn’t allowed to have time to prepare. Why should Burrows be?”

“He also wasn’t told he was going to die every day for years. You have no idea what that does to a person’s mental wellbeing.”

The point brought out a sour look on her father’s face. “I am not willing to debate this with you. For once you are going to do exactly what I say. You are to have no further contact with Burrows. Since you refuse to handle things yourself, I have already made that clear to the DOC. I also expect for you to begin looking for a suitable job before the election. At this point I have humored you enough on this front. Am I clear?”

Sara plastered on her best politician’s daughter smile. He took a half step back at the sight of it. “You have certainly made yourself perfectly clear, as have I. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something that I need to do. I believe you know the way out.”

Her father glared at her for a moment before storming out of the apartment. The second he was gone she sank onto the couch, her mind going a mile a minute. Every impulse that she had told her to do the opposite of whatever her father told her to do, but she was trying not to give into her rebellious side. At the same time, she really did want to help Lincoln. If she gave into her father’s demands he would be left with no one. Sure, he had his brother, but she knew without Lincoln having to tell her that he had never really been completely open with Michael. One question kept circling around her mind as she sat there: What the hell was she supposed to do? In the moment she had no idea.

***

It had been nearly a week since his tryst with Sara, and yet she hadn’t called. It was probably for the best, but that didn’t stop Michael from being disappointed. As he suspected, the morning light had clearly changed her mind about what they had done. Instead of being upset, he should have been glad that she had more willpower than him. That had been proving difficult though. Even as he sat at his desk, trying to work, his mind continued to stray back to the memory of her falling apart beneath him. If their roles had been reversed, he was sure that he would have called her by now. The buzzer on his office phone interrupted Michael’s thoughts, causing him to look up from the plans he was pouring over. Through the window he saw a swath of dark hair and knew without the woman turning around who was there to see him. She was unexpected but not an unwelcome distraction. “Send her in,” he said through the intercom before Lola had a chance to say a word. The door swung open almost immediately, admitting one of his oldest friends. “This is a surprise,” he said with a smile.

Veronica Donavan smiled in return. “I was in the area on a case and thought I’d stop by. I never get to see you anymore.”

He nodded at that, not really sure what he was supposed to say. They really didn’t get to see each other enough, and if things went correctly, he would never see her again. The thought made him sad, but he knew that it was all for the best. Better to not get her involved in rescuing Lincoln or having to hide their location from the FBI once it was all done. It was also better not to dwell on it in the little bit of time they had left. Instead he turned his thoughts back to her. “You’re here now though,” he said teasingly. “What do you say we make it an even month between visits from now on?”

She rolled his eyes at that. That was her default reaction to him most of the time. She had been treating him like an exasperating little brother for most of their lives, and in many ways an exasperating little brother was exactly what he was to her. “How you been?” she asked. There was a playful look in her eyes. “Good I hope. You know, when you aren’t ducking out of drinks that one of your oldest friends asked you to have with her soon to be husband,” she added with a teasing laugh.

He rolled his eyes in response. “I was afraid that was the real reason you stopped by. Why actually come just to see me?” He looked at her apologetically. “Tell Sebastian that I’m truly sorry for ditching him. I didn’t plan to, I swear. Something came up.”

“Oh I heard what came up,” she said significantly, a teasing smile on her lips. “I got to hear all about it when they came stumbling home. Something you’d like to tell me?”

Michael froze, guilt written all over his face. He tried to consider what she might know. What exactly had one of the others seen or overheard? His mind raced as he tried to recount their conversation from the bar. Nothing stuck out as particularly damning, but he still needed to tread carefully. Finally he chose to see if she would tell him instead of trying to guess. “What exactly do you think that you know?” he asked, playing along

She shrugged and fell into one of the office chairs. “Nothing. Just that you went to go get drinks but then apparently picked up some hot chick at the bar. Those were Phil’s exact words I believe, ‘some hot chick’.” She even did the air quotes as she repeated the words with a snort. “Sebastian said you looked awfully cozy before you followed her out, seemed to think the two of you knew each other maybe, like she was your girlfriend or something. I said, girlfriend, really? Here I was, thinking I was one of your closest friends, and I know nothing about this.”

He let out a sigh of relief at her words. There wasn’t anything that he could remember having said to her at the bar that shouldn’t have been overheard, but it was still better to keep his recent mistakes a secret as much as possible. “No,” he said, “no girlfriend.”

Veronica was watching him carefully. The look she was giving him was eerily familiar, but it didn’t seem like one that was usually directed at him. He couldn’t place where he had seen it before. Then just as quickly it was gone again “Just a drunken one night stand then? Can’t fault you for that I guess,” she said after a long moment. “You’re only human, right?” Was there an edge of disappointment to her voice though?

Michael opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself before anything came out. Would it really be the worst thing to let her think that he had just picked someone up and took her home? Sure, it was unlike him, and seemed to be something she disapproved of, but it was better than letting her know the truth. “You caught me,” he said, not having to work hard to hide that he was a little ashamed of himself. After all he was properly ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had slept with her. Ashamed that he wanted very much to do it again and again and again. “I shouldn’t have just left though. Seriously, tell Sebastian I’m sorry and would love to try again to bond with him, since I know how much it means to you. I promise, no hot chicks this time.”

She seemed to be content with that response. “Do I at least get details?” she probed. He shook his head. “A name even? You did at least get her name, right?”

“Of course I got her name,” he snapped back with a mock offended look on his face. He wondered what else would be safe to say. Sara was not a subject he wanted to share with her. What was he supposed to say? So I have, on two separate occasions, slept with the doctor who works at the prison? The very same doctor who is currently doing a psych eval on my brother who is only months from death and I am pretty sure will need to manipulate to save his life. Yeah, been all up in her business. Please don’t judge. Yeah, he didn’t think that’s go over very well. Instead he said, “Her name is Sara, and I would rather not kiss and tell if it’s all the same to you.”

There was a long pause where she seemed to be weighing his words carefully. “I guess I will forgive you then,” she said. “But I do want you to get to know Sebastian though. You know that you’re important to me, and I don’t want you to just disappear from my life just because…” Her voice trailed off as the rest of that sentence hung in the air unspoken.

Michael really didn’t want to talk about that. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, not quite looking at her. It was very awkwardly quiet all of a sudden. “You know he’s been talking about you to the prison shrink.” As the words came out he had no idea why he’d told her that.

Veronica looked shocked at the information. “Lincoln’s been talking to a shrink?” she asked disbelievingly.

Michael expected a many great things to come out of her mouth in response but that caught him by surprise. “Well, I guess not a shrink really, just the doctor at the prison. And it’s not really by choice, not his choice at least.”

“How do you know that he’s been talking about me?”

The question brought Michael back to his senses. Of course she’s wonder about something like that. He certainly couldn’t answer her honestly. Why could he say that would sound believable? His mind struck on her impromptu visit almost a month before. “The doc came to see me, thought I might be able to get him to open up. She happened to mention it while she was here, that’s all.”

She gave a small nod at that. “Still doesn’t seem likely. I doubt he thinks of me at all.” There was a sadness to the words that Michael wasn’t quite able to place. Did she want Lincoln to thinking about her?

“You’re the love of his life,” he supplied without thinking. She scoffed at that. “No really. You are. We both know that my brother has a talent for ruining the very things he wants to most. Why is it so hard to believe that he loves you despite it all?”

“Yet he doesn’t call. Doesn’t write.”

Michael shrugged. “You’ve moved on with your life. Right?” She fidgeted in her chair a bit; he didn’t take the time to wonder what that meant. “I bet he’d want to see you though, if you ever decided to stop by.”

Veronica let that suggestion hang in the air for a long moment before she rose. There was a reason they never had this conversation, and he had forgotten it in the moment. “I should probably get back to the office,” she said, decidedly not meeting his gaze. “Maybe you can come over for dinner some night soon. We can catch up, and you can beg Sebastian for another chance. He was very hurt that you’d ditched him.” She flashed him a shy smile. “But seriously, we should get together more. There isn’t really anyone left now but us. We should keep in touch.”

He nodded, walking with her to the door. “I’ll call you,” he said.

“Yeah, right,” she replied. “And maybe I’ll go see Lincoln.”

The words hung heavy in the air as she walked away, leaving Michael to watch her go from the doorway of his office.

***

It had been a long few days. Sara was still replaying the conversation that she had just gotten done having with the warden. Since Monday she had been trying to get in to see Lincoln to finish their conversation, but every attempt she had made was blocked. Never in a million years had she suspected that her father’s words of warning would have had any merit to them. He was always threatening her like that, and as of yet he had never interfered in her life before. Why would this time be any different? Except that according to Warden Pope he had proceeded to mettle this time, making it known that she was not allowed to see Lincoln anymore. Just the thought of it made her angrier than she could put into words. It was only the sight of Katie in the distance that pushed it from her mind.

Sara sighed heavily as she saw her friend hunched over some paperwork in the distance. Katie had been avoiding Sara all morning. She had been trying in vain to talk to her all week. Every time they found themselves in the same room, Katie would exit as quickly as possible, but finally Sara was able to corner her. “Can we talk?” she asked.

Katie looked up but didn’t seem inclined to say anything. “I know that how we ended things wasn’t great,” Sara began to say. All that got her in response was a glare. “I was tired and not having a good day. I took it out on you, and that was wrong.”

“I just want you to be able to let me in,” Katie replied. The look she gave Sara made her feel even worse. “You threw yourself into work when you could have come to me.”

Sara looked around the room, trying to make sure they were relatively alone. Now was as good a time as any to clear the air. No one appeared in the general vicinity, so she sat down next to her friend and began speaking quietly. “Look, there are certain things about myself that you don’t know, that I haven’t told anyone here.” That wasn’t strictly speaking true considering Bellick and the warden, but Sara assumed it was close enough. “I wanted to start fresh. No one knew me here, and I just didn’t want to start a new job, new relationships, with the past hanging over my head. I know that I should have confided in you before, but that is easier said than done.”

“It can’t be all that bad.” The look that Katie gave her made it clear that Sara wasn’t being forgiven so easily.

“You’re right. We’re friends, and you have shown yourself to be nothing but supportive of me. I should have confided in you.” The doctor looked around her for a moment before going on. “Before, I… Well I left my last job because I’m an addict.” The words obviously took Katie by surprise, but Sara powered on. “I had struggled with addiction in the past but gotten through it, I thought, but I relapsed, hard about four years ago. And I ended up in a situation, not at work but still, where I was unable to help because I was just too out of it. So I left, went to rehab, and once I felt like I was capable of helping people again, I came here. It’s not exactly something that I am proud of, and it isn’t something that I would appreciate everyone knowing about me.” She tried to keep the accusation light, but it was obviously there.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Katie said defensively.

Sara was fairly certain that was the truth. She needed to believe it was the truth because she had missed having Katie in her life over the past week. There was so much that she longed to tell her, and they needed to get this out of the way first. “I am choosing to give you the benefit of the doubt on that,” she replied, letting the issue drop. She didn’t want to make the situation with Katie even worse by accusing her of gossiping again.

Katie gave her a curious look, like she was seeing Sara for the first time. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with this information,” she said honestly.

“That’s a big reason why I didn’t want to tell you,” Sara admitted. “I didn’t want you to look at me like, well like that.” She gestured vaguely at the expression on Katie’s face. “I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t want to constantly have to deal with you worrying about me. Ultimately what I do or do not do comes down to me. If I’m going to relapse again, it will have nothing to do with you. I need you to understand that. So no being concerned about leaving me alone with the drugs or that I’m working too hard. The work actually helps, distracts me. It gives me a reason to stay clean. I have to make my own way in that regard, and as much as I would love your friendship and support, if you aren’t able to respect that I am in charge of my own choices, this won’t work.”

Katie frowned. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and then tell me not to worry.”

Sara smiled and rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re going to worry, but I can’t worry about me and you at the same time. I just can’t. I need to focus on staying clean not making sure that I don’t do something that might make you worry that I’m going to fall off the wagon.”

“But you’ve fallen off before?” It was a very loaded question, and Sara knew that Katie was already preparing it as ammunition to use against her.

Sara sighed. “Look, the circumstances were different. I made choices that were not in my best interests, and they led me down a dark path. But they were my choices. There was nothing anybody could have said or done to change it.”

“But if you had someone to help you…”

Sara held up a hand to stop this line of thought. “I mean it. If you can’t respect my ability to make my own choices, we can’t be friends.” That sounded harsh even to her. “Look, I am going to do things that you won’t agree with. That’s just life. And obviously, you are free to state your opinions about my choices all you want, but just because I make a decision that you disagree with doesn’t mean that I’m going to relapse. I have miss-stepped before, and it didn’t led me down that road. It’s about a lot more than just a bad day. Or even a bad series of days. Do you think you can respect that?”

Katie thought that over. “I think so, but just because I say that doesn’t mean I won’t ever worry.”

Sara nodded. She had expected as much. “I get that, but you have to use that wisely. It’s like the boy that cried wolf. One day I may actually be in trouble, and I may need you. And if you are constantly convinced that I am on the edge when I’m perfectly fine, I’m going to be less likely to listen to you when the time comes that I should.”

Katie nodded at that. “Good,” Sara said. “Because I did a bad thing, and I would really like to talk to my friend about it. But you need to take this as a momentary lapse in judgement and not my being on the brink of the abyss.”

That certainly got the nurse’s attention. “How bad are we talking?”

Sara looked sheepish for a second. “I might have had a one night stand after I left here.” Katie chuckled a little, probably glad that her advice to continue getting out there was finally being heeded. “Oh, don’t get all happy for me yet. That isn’t the bad thing,” She glanced around again nervously and leaned in so she could lower her voice even more. “I may have, no I did, I definitely did. I had sex with Lincoln’s brother.” There was a silence that followed that pronouncement. “Really? Nothing?”

“I don’t understand,” Katie said.

“Never mind,” Sara said, partly glad that Katie had missed her point. “It was a mistake that will never happen again. I mean, technically that was again, but that’s all it was. A mistake. A two time mistake.”

The wheels were slowly turning in Katie’s head. “Wait,” she said, reaching out to grab Sara’s arm as if she was about to get up. “Like Burrows?” All Sara could do was sit there looking guilty. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Way to bury the lead! All this I’m a drug addict, and you’re holding a secret like that! How? I feel like I’ve missed so much.” She was sputtering, trying to form her thoughts into words. “Just, how? And why would you think that was a good idea?”

Sara sighed loudly. “It just kind of happened. He took me home, and one thing led to another. I wasn’t exactly thinking everything through at the time. It had been a bad day, and he seemed to be the less reckless of the options available to me at the time. Now I’m not so sure about that though.”

Katie turned around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “That makes it even worse. What happened, you left here and tracked down probably the last person you should sleep with and then took him home with you?”

Sara shook her head. “No, we just ran into each other. At a bar. That sounds worse than it is. I didn’t drink, for the record. We can discuss that another time. For now, I need to freak out about this.” 

Luckily Katie let that one pass for the moment. She shot Sara a confused look instead. “How can you be so sure who he is? Did he just strike up a conversation with some stranger in a bar and be like, ‘oh yeah my brother’s on death row’?”

Suddenly she realized just how much her friend didn’t know. “Yeah, you’re right,” Sara replied, “You’ve missed a few things. So you remember the guy I told you I slept with about a month ago, the one whose brother is an inmate here?”

“Great sex, too hot for words,” Katie supplied automatically.

“Well that is the brother.” Sara looked around herself sheepishly. “I will remind you that I did not know who he was that time.”

That took a minute to sink in. “You’re sure? Tall? With the pretty blue eyes? And a fantastic ass? You’re sure?” Sara nodded. “No, you’re right. I’ve seen the man, and he is without a doubt too hot for words. Never considered seeing him naked though.” She trailed off as if she was at the very moment imagining it. “How’d you make the connection?” she asked once she’d jarred herself away.

Sara couldn’t blame her as she shifted in her seat, trying to think of how to begin. When she finally opened her mouth to speak it all came out in a rush. “It all pieces together. So I met him down in visitation, clearly having just visited someone here. He tells me his name, his first name at least, Michael. Then I saw a name, Michael Scofield, on the visitors’ log. Actually that might have come first. I can’t remember. Anyway, this Michael was visiting Burrows, but it’s such a common name I thought nothing of it when I ran into Michael again and slept with him. Lincoln himself at one point happened to let slip that his brother, Michael, is a structural engineer. Right after that I went to my father’s house for his yearly Christmas party and he had invited this architectural firm that is working on the downtown remodel he’s been putting together, and you’ll never guess who the head structural engineer on the project is. No really, it was like being hit with a freight train. Oh when I saw him I was so pissed. Plus Bruce, oh that’s my dad’s chief of staff by the way, was on the verge of having a heart attack because Michael was there. Though he seemed able to behave himself. That night. He did not behave himself last Friday night though, let me tell you that right now,”

Katie looked partially thrilled and appalled as Sara finally ran out of steam. “So when you ran into him you knew who he was and slept with him anyway?”

Sara opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by one of the guards. “Hey doc,” he said, “we need you. There’s been an accident.”

As Sara ran after him she heard Katie yelling after her. “Don’t think we’re done talking about this!”

***

Lincoln paced back and forth in his cell. It had been a full week, and still the doc had not been back to see him. It wasn’t like her to just not show up. She had said Monday, and yet here it was Friday again and she was nowhere to be seen. What was he supposed to think of that? Had he done something to upset her? Was she not ever going to come back? And to make matters worse, no one would tell him anything. He did another round of the cell, his mind racing. Why hadn’t she come back like she’d said?

He ran a hand over his head absently. All that time he had spent waiting for the day she just left him alone, and now that she was apparently gone he didn’t know what to do. His eyes cut over to the table in the corner, his letter to Lisa still sitting on the top. He had worked hard to show her that he would listen, that he would cooperate, and now she would never know. Just when he was finally started to get used to her visits… The thought plagued him as he continued to pace.

There was movement outside his cell, the sound of steps distracting his thoughts. It was too early for lunch, and he couldn’t help but wonder what could be going on outside. His feet carried him over to the door, hoping to learn something. The footsteps stopped close by. Maybe they were dealing with the racket in the cell next door. The man had been keeping Lincoln awake for days, only adding to his restless thoughts. When the noise finally stopped, he’d been too glad of the quiet to consider something might be wrong. “What did you say happened?” he heard someone ask suddenly. A woman. A woman he knew. Dr. Tancredi was just on the other side of the door, but he knew she was not there to see him.

***

Sara let out a sigh of relief as the door to her apartment shut behind her. For the last six hours she had been trying to talk to an inmate clearly in distress, but it was to no avail. The man had been unable to say a word to her. It was no wonder. The guards said that he had been screaming for days. When she had endeavored to asked why she hadn’t been told sooner, the only response she had gotten was a brief furtive look towards the cell next door. Lincoln’s cell. She had found herself unable to even look at it, fearing that he was on the other side of the door, wondering why she had never come back. The thought haunted her even now. But that was a problem she would have to deal with another day. She had barely gotten out of the prison as it was without trying to fight to be allowed to see him.

She shook her head in an attempt to push her guilt from her mind and turned her attention to the mail she had clutched in her hand. Most of it was junk that she hastily discarded, but an envelope on the bottom caught her attention. There was no return address, but the post mark was just down the road. Who would be writing to her so close by? Holding the envelope up to the light gave her little hint at what might be concealed inside, so she ripped it open, curiosity getting the better of her, tipping the contents into her palm. As the origami figure fell out of the envelope into her hand Sara couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. It was wrong to find pleasure in it, she was sure, but after the stress of the day, it was a welcome distraction, if only for a brief moment. The message written on it made her smile even more. “In case you lost the other one.” The same number was scrawled underneath. She didn’t need to check the original to confirm, by this point having committed the digits to memory.

In the week since Sara had awoken to find the original paper bird on her nightstand she had come home and turned the figure over and over in her hands, just touching it making her feel close to him. It was the closest that she could be to him. Still, every time it made her smile, sometimes for the first time that day. But she had made up her mind not to call him. If she was going to help one brother, she couldn’t see the other. At another time in her life she might have tried to convince herself that they could be friends or that this would end any other way than with him in her bed, but she was wise enough now to know exactly where calling him would lead. She had hoped that not calling would be a clear response. A silent answer for a silent question. Michael didn’t seem to have gotten the message though. The thought that he might soon made her a little sad, but that wasn’t something she should be focusing on. Now was not the time to let herself forget all the resolutions she had made. The swans had been the best part of a really bad week, and they were starting to weaken her resolve. Reluctantly she admitted to herself that it had to stop. Not for the first time that she dialed the number written on the little paper birds, but this time she pressed send. “Hello?” a familiar voice asked after a couple of rings.

“You know this could constitute stalking,” she replied.

“Sara?” Michael asked. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I was hoping that you would call.”

“Really? I didn’t get that impression.” Her own smile was hard to control as she played with the little bird absently. But she needed to remember why she had called. “I appreciate it and everything, but I can’t.”

There was a long pause on the other side of the line. “Is it the swans?” he asked in a mock serious tone. “Because I can make other things.”

“It’s not the swans,” she said as she struggled not to smile. “I just think that it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to get involved with you under the circumstances. Aside from it being a conflict of interest, I hardly think your brother would appreciate it. I had a hard enough time looking at him after the first time.” She sighed heavily but still found herself grinning like an idiot.

“So you haven’t been thinking about me?” There was an implication in his voice she knew she shouldn’t consider. Of course she had been thinking about him.

As he spoke she caught sight of the kitchen counter and vividly remembered what had happened there. “Oh fuck,” she whispered into the phone. She had to shake her head to clear the memory. Of all the times to break and call him, she just had to have chosen when she was already on edge, prone to all kinds of bad decisions. “We can’t,” she whispered, but it hadn’t come out nearly as firm as she intended.

The line went quiet for long enough that she feared he might have hung up. Finally he spoke. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

This was a really bad idea, but she could hear herself agreeing before she had time to think. Maybe it was better face to face. They could talk, clear the air, and be done with it. Even as she told herself that she knew it was a lie. She sighed loudly before moving to try and clean up some of her mess before he arrived.

It actually only took him ten minutes to make it over to the apartment. Sara opened the door cautiously, already regretting this. She looked at him for a second, taking in every inch that was visible through the crack in the door. He had clearly just come from work. Did he subconsciously know what the sight of him in a suit did to her so something? “I guess you might as well come in,” she said, stepping aside.

Michael walked past her into the apartment. She was a bundle of nerves just being in the same room as him, but he appeared completely relaxed as the door closed behind him. “I was starting to think that you were never going to call,” he said after a moment.

Sara sighed loudly. “I didn’t mean to; I just needed you to stop sending me those stupid paper birds.”

He looked at her over his shoulder curiously. “You didn’t like them?”

The look she gave him was guarded. “That wasn’t the point.” Her voice was surprisingly strong. Maybe she was going to prove herself capable of standing her ground after all. It was important that he realize the danger they were in. “I already told you on the phone that it is inadvisable for us to see each other.”

The rest of that thought was cut off abruptly as he turned to her again. Up until that point she hadn’t realized just how close they had been standing to each other. She didn’t like the look in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her. Now was the time to back away, maybe all the way to Antarctica, but instead she stood her ground. As their lips touched she gave a soft sigh, her hands wrapping around his face to pull him closer. She hated how her body just did things like that when he was around. His own hands wrapped around her hips, squeezing gently. They kissed like that for a moment before Sara finally pulled away. “We really shouldn’t do this,” she said quietly.

“But we’re going to,” he replied.

She had to take a step back to get out of the circle of her arms. “I don’t know that I could stop if we started this,” she said. Her eyes wandered over his body again. He was slightly rumpled, and she wondered if that was because of her or not. He had already discarded his tie before he came, and his shirt was unbuttoned a little, revealing the very top of his tattoo if he moved the right way. Against her better judgement she met his sultry gaze. “I can’t have sex with you. It was too hard to stop myself from requesting a repeat performance the last time, and if I don’t stay firm now, I don’t know that I’ll ever stop. This is too complicated for us to start anything.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he moved into her personal space again. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he whispered softly, his hand pressing into her hip. “I want you. All I was able to think about these last few days was you.” Their heads pressed together, hands running over each other’s faces. “Tell me to go, and I’ll go.”

“Michael,” the name crossed her lips softly. “We’ll regret this. In a few months when this has to stop, we’ll regret this.” She had to make a conscious effort to step out of his grasp again.

This time she made it all the way to the couch. He was left standing near the door, gazing after her. “Why do you assume that? We could make this work.” She gave him a sharp look. “I like you, and I think that you like me.” He crossed over to where she sat and took a seat on the coffee table across from her. “No one matters but us.” He brushed her hair softly from her face, looking at her intently. She could tell that he meant what he was saying, at least for now, but that didn’t mean that he’d feel the same later on.

“He’s your brother,” she whispered. “You think you will, but you’ll never be able to forgive yourself if you do this. Once was a mistake, twice reckless, and if we cross that line again, we will again and again and again.” The words faded softly as he leaned forward and kissed her once more.

Sara couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back. Every part of her was screaming to stop, that this was dangerous territory, but she couldn’t manage to pull away. She wanted him more than she could put into words in that moment. The problem was how she wanted him. It would be easy if all she wanted was his body against her own, but the desire to wake up beside him was a problem she knew would kill her if she let it. She needed to put a stop to this while she still could. But she didn’t. Their kiss deepened as she pulled him onto the couch beside her.

Michael’s hands ran through her hair as they kissed, her own hands playing with the buttons of his shirt. The buttons were coming undone slowly, revealing more and more of his tattooed chest. Her fingers followed the exposed skin softly, brushing against his smooth flesh. Everything was progressing so slowly but incredibly fast at the same time. He pulled away and looked at her for a long moment. A thumb ran along her cheekbone, his hand gently cupping her face. It occurred to Sara that this would be a good place to pump the breaks. Instead she looked back at him steadily as her fingers finished undoing the buttons of his shirt. She looked down and took in his bare flesh, fingers ghosting over the lines of his tattoo. Seeing it again brought back many of her questions from before, but in the moment all she really wanted was to get him naked. She pushed his jacket and shirt off of his shoulders exposing the rest of his tattoos. As the fabric was discarded on the floor she pulled him into a kiss again, deepening it as she straddled him. “Oh shit,” she whispered against his lips as she felt his hard cock beneath her.

He groaned as she ground her hips down against him. Even completely clothed the friction was incredible, and his hands wrapped around her hips to help guide her as she rolled against him. They groaned softly as their lips ghosted together. Neither one of them seemed willing to stop what they were doing even to progress things further. Michael’s fingers dug into the flesh just beneath the hem of her shirt, but he made no move to pull it over her head for the time being. They just slowly worked each other up as they kissed, very rapidly approaching the point where neither of them would be capable of putting a stop to this if either one of them still had to sense to do so. His fingers creeped a little higher, a little bit at a time, running over her bare stomach. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck as she resisted the urge to squirm away from his touch. “That tickles,” she said softly, a hand coming down to lay over his own, the fabric of her shirt the only thing dividing their hands. They were both panting as they stopped to look at each other for a long moment. “What are we doing?” Sara asked quietly.

His thumb brushed along her ribcage, making her squirm. “I thought that was rather obvious.” He ran his hand up her chest and wrapped a hand around her breast.

A soft moan fell from her lips. “This isn’t a good idea,” she said.

He leaned forward to kiss along her jaw slowly. “But it’ll feel so good,” he whispered against her flesh. It was all she could do to keep her gasps quiet as his lips slowly ghosted to a spot beneath her ear.

Her fingers dug into the back of his neck, holding him to her as he sucked softly on her flesh. In the moment she didn’t even care that he was leaving a mark that she wouldn’t be able to cover up come Monday. She rolled her hips against him again, causing him to groan into her flesh, teeth nipping at her neck. A soft gasp fell from her lips as he repeated the action, tongue slowly soothing the bites. Reluctantly she pulled away from him to pull her shirt over her head. Their eyes met as she threw the shirt in the general direction of the floor. As her own hands began to slowly run down his chest, the hand he had on her chest dipped beneath the fabric of her bra and ran along the swell of her breast. They sat there slowly touching each other, neither one saying a word, for a long moment before their heads knocked together, the pair of them kissing softly. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, causing her breasts to spill out.

Their lips were just faintly brushing together as hands strayed everywhere. His fingers were pinching one of her nipples, sending shivers down her spine. It made her want to speed things up. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was willing to slowly ease her way toward their goal. With far dirtier intentions she pulled away from him to shift a little on his lap, using the new position to reach between them to work on undoing his belt and pants. It proved to be a little too difficult to do one handed, so she collapsed against his chest to keep her balance as she made quick work of his clothes. Once she had managed to unzip his pants she reached in and cupped her hand around the bulge in his boxer briefs made by his hard cock. He groaned into her hair as she brushed her thumb against the head of his dick, increasing the wet spot his leaking tip was already leaving on his underwear. Continuing to tease him slowly, Sara pulled away a little so that she could see what affect she was having on him. Michael’s jaw clenched as she increased her grip a little, adding to the friction on his cock. “Fuck!” he groaned, leaning forward to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

She struggled to keep her balance as his lips wrapped around her, tongue flicking out to lightly press against her. He was sucking her nipple between his lips, slowly adding pressure until she was panting against him in frustration. Her grip upon his cock was unrelenting, rubbing him hard as he added his teeth against her breast. All she was capable of doing was gasping in response. The hand that was not around his cock wrapped around his head, holding him in place. Breathy moans were falling from her lips, her stomach fluttering as his tongue rolled over her nipple. It wasn’t nearly enough. Despite that her position on his lap making it difficult, she started to try and pull his pants down his thighs. “Hold on,” he told her, laughing a little.

He picked her up off his lap and set her onto the couch beside him. While she watched impatiently he kicked off his shoes so he could pull his pants and socks off. “Your turn,” he said once he was stripped down to just his underwear.

Sara pulled her own pants off quickly, throwing them to the floor. Within moments she had crawled back onto his lap, able to feel his cock beneath her ass much easier without so many layers between them. Her hips rolled against him experimentally; the look on his face as she rubbed herself against him was one of the most beautiful things she had even seen. She wanted to see how he’d look as she sucked him off. “It seems to me,” she began slowly, “that I owe you one from last time.”

Michael groaned and leaned forward to kiss her softly. “Later,” he groaned. Their lips brushed against each other a few times before he pulled away to kiss along her jaw. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

She groaned at the thought as he went back to kissing her neck again, definitely adding to the mark he’d left upon her flesh earlier. His hand slipped between them, a finger dipping into the side of her underwear to run through her folds. She knew that she had to be dripping wet; he gave an appreciative groan against her flesh, slipping his finger inside her. “I can’t wait,” she said, grinding down onto his finger.

He pulled his finger out of her to drag her panties out of the way. The second she was completely naked on top of him he pushed two fingers inside her. She groaned in frustration but fought the urge to push his hand away; she knew she needed the stretch from the way she’d ached after their last encounter. His fingers curled inside her, rubbing along her g-spot, causing her hips to grind down on his fingers even more. A thumb against her clit had her gasping. “Please Michael,” she moaned, her forehead pressed against his own.

“Where are my pants?” he asked, sounding out of breath.

She twisted around on his lap, his fingers still inside of her, and grabbed his slacks off the floor. She missed the feel of his digits inside her as he had to pull them out to fish some condoms out of the pocket. When she saw how many there were she shot him a curious look. “What? I wanted to be prepared this time. I don’t plan to go anywhere for a long time.”

Sara chuckled softly as she lifted off his lap a little so he could lift his hips and pull his boxer briefs down his legs. To her amusement he tore open one of the condoms with his teeth, maybe in an imitation of her their first time, and threw the others onto the coffee table for later. It only took a moment for him to roll the condom onto his cock and pull her hips down so he could line himself up. He gave her no warning as he pulled her down onto him until he was fully seated inside her. She squeaked quietly as she felt him pull their hips together. The stretch was a little tighter than last time because of her impatience, and it took her a moment to adjust to having him inside her. She panted softly as she got her bearings. “Fuck!” she groaned. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She didn’t want to ever get used to it.

She rolled her hips experimentally, his cock slipping out of her a little. He grabbed a hold of her hips but let her set the pace, slowly slipping out of her then back in again a second later. It was torturously slow as she got used to riding him, but the drag felt amazing. Every nerve inside her body was on fire as she leaned forward and kissed him deeply. They sped up some, his fingers digging into her hips as they slammed together. “Oh god you feel so good,” he told her, pulling away from her lips.

Sara moaned softly as Michael dipped down to seize one of her breasts again. His lips were sucking hard on her nipple causing her to gasp. She had no clue how she had resisted the urge to call him for as long as she did, but in the moment she knew that she wouldn’t be able to avoid him so easily in the future. As his teeth scraped against her nipple, she felt her walls start to clench around him and sped up her pace. No one had ever gotten her this close that fast before. All she could do was roll her hips against him, trying to find a rhythm that would push him over the edge too. Her walls were fluttering around him fast, just on the edge, though she couldn’t manage to fall over. Before she could open her mouth to ask for it, beg him for it, he reached between them to rub her clit, softly at first then a little bit harder as she moaned loudly. She could feel the tension in her muscles increasing, her orgasm right on the edge. He bit her nipple a little harder than before, his tongue soothing over the injury, and she fell over the edge, her pussy milking his cock rapidly.

It took a tremendous effort to keep going. Every muscle in her body felt spent, but she worked to keep riding him, hoping that he was close. The only sound in the room was their skin slapping together as she pushed him closer and closer to the edge. His thrusts were becoming erratic, and she knew that he was nearly there. With a grunt he slammed her hips down onto his own and held her steady as he came. “Fuck!” he groaned once he was done. He leaned forward and kissed her softly as they both started to come down. “Be right back,” he said after a long moment. He pulled her off of his softening cock and deposited her on the couch while he disappeared in the direction of her bathroom. As he walked off she caught sight of his back, noticing that he had filled in the gap on his right shoulder blade in the short time since they’d seen each other last, but he was out of view too vast for her to get a good look at the new ink. She collapsed back against the couch and waited.

Sara was right where he left her a moment later when he returned to the living room. She took in his naked frame as he walked back to her. Even soft his cock looked huge; a disbelieving gasp escaped her lips at the thought that he had put that inside her, not once but three times at that point. She wanted to lay there and look at him naked forever, but he scooped up his underwear and slid them back on before coming to sit on the couch beside her. As she was half sprawled against the back of the sofa she had to rearrange herself a little to give him room. Once he was settled she threw her feet into his lap, too tired to put any of her clothes back on. He didn’t seem to mind as he ran a hand along her inner thigh, fingers dipping into her folds before she could voice an objection. She was still so sensitive as he brushed against her clit, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stop.

He fingered her slowly, watching her face intently as he worked her back up gradually. “You always get so wet for me,” he said quietly as her juices coated his fingers. “After the last time all I could think about was the taste of you on my tongue. I want to taste you so bad.” But he made no move to act on that desire.

She was gasping softly, a mixture of pleasure and pain in the muscles gripping his fingers tightly. He seemed in no hurry to get her off again, but another orgasm was building regardless, starting to take over, sending bursts of pleasure all the way down to her toes. Suddenly she was conscious of the fact that she was leaking onto the couch, but in the moment she couldn’t seem to care. Her second orgasm hit her with three fingers curled inside her and a thumb on her clit. She panted loudly as he rubbed her clit through the aftershocks and pulled his hand away from her throbbing folds. “You know,” she said, struggling for breath, “this is the first time I’ve ever had sex on this couch.” She chuckled softly and looked at him intently for the first time in what seemed forever to see that he was busy licking her juices off his fingers. “Fuck that’s hot,” she told him. Despite the fact that she had just gotten off, she felt herself leaking a little more onto the couch. If she hadn’t been so worn out she would have already been working to get him hard again.

Instead she laid there for a long time watching him licking his fingers before finally getting off the couch to go throw some clothes on. She went into her room and started to dig through her dresser. “You hungry?” she asked in the general direction of the living room.

As she pulled a t-shirt over her head she turned toward the door and saw that he had followed her. He was standing in the doorway watching her in a way that made her think clothes were unnecessary. “I could eat. What have you got?” he asked, his eyes trailing over her half naked flesh.

“Takeout menus.”

Michael laughed softly. He looked at her for a long moment before leaving her to pull a fresh pair of underwear over her hips. When she followed him she found him digging through a drawer in the kitchen. “Lucky guess,” he told her as he pulled out a stack of restaurant menus.

Sara went to stand beside him. “That place is good,” she said, pointing to a menu for a nearby Chinese place. “We can get something else if you want.”

He shrugged. “No, that’s fine.”

They were quiet as they both tried to figure out what they wanted. Once their order had been placed they stood next to each other in the kitchen a little awkwardly, neither one sure what to say or do. Sara looked down at her bare legs and thought about going back to her room to grab a pair of sweats but couldn’t bring herself to move. The silence hung between them for a long moment. “Look,” she finally said, “we’re both adults.”

Michael reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “We are,” he agreed. “And we’ve done this before.”

“Then why is this so awkward?” she said, voicing what they were both thinking.

A hand came up to brush her hair from her face. “It doesn’t have to be.” He looked around the room for a second then focused back on her. “You know, I have very fond memories of this particular room.”

She hummed softly in response. “I seem to remember something like that.” She smiled playfully, “Maybe next time we should make some fond memories in your kitchen.”

The look he gave her was guarded, worrisome. “Nah, you don’t want to see my place.”

“Why not? You got a wife stashed away somewhere or something?” She began it teasingly but the humor was short lived in her mind.

“Or something,” he said with a shrug, like it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t help but think that the conversation was over though and filed his reaction away for later. She racked her brain for something to say now. All of a sudden the reality of what they had done hit her. “That probably wasn’t such a good idea,” she said at last.

The smile he gave her was a little sad. “You going to ignore me for another week?” he asked teasingly but she sensed some genuine hurt beneath his words.

“I don’t think I can ignore you now,” she admitted. There was a long pause. “I thought about you, a lot. And not just kitchen memories.” They both chuckled lightly at that. “But this can’t work. I mean, we can’t ever be more than what we already are. And Lincoln can never know.”

The arm around her waist tighten a little and pressed them together a little bit more. “Why do you keep saying that? That we can’t make this work?”

She ran a hand along his bicep, looking at the tattoos that covered his arm as she tried to find the words to explain. “I work at the prison,” was pretty much the extent of what she could find to say.

“I was aware of that,” he admitted playfully.

The words didn’t want to come out. Sure, she knew that they couldn’t ever have more than this, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to continue having this for a little while. If she said the words he might go away again and never come back. It made her feel selfish to want to keep him here despite the fact that he probably wouldn’t want anything to do with her if he knew. With a huge sigh she started talking, “Michael, do you know what my job is?”

He shot her a bemused expression. “You’re a doctor, so I’m going to guess something involved in that area.” He spoke the words slowly like he was having to take his time to think it through.

“I meant in relation to your brother. You do know what I’m doing, right? I’m ultimately the person that has to tell the state of Illinois that it’s okay to execute him. In a little less than four months I have to help kill the only brother that you have. How would that work with you and me, whatever there is between us? Now you might be able to ignore it, but later on, you’ll hate me. And I can’t do that.” She stepped out of his grasp. “I like you Michael. And not just for the sex. Though that’s definitely a selling point.” She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. Not was not the time for jokes no matter how much she wanted to lighten the mood. She turned back to him, serious. “I know that I don’t know you very well, but I want to. I want to know you better, learn everything there is to know about you. I think about you all the time, but I can still give you up now. It will be hard, but I think I can do it. But in a few months?” Her mouth worked soundlessly. “I already have to lose Lincoln; I don’t know that I can bare to lose you both.”

He had a strange look in his eyes, but as he opened his mouth to speak the buzzer on the front door went off. He left her standing in the kitchen without a word to go check to see who was at the door. Sara had no clue how long it took for her to have enough strength to follow. He was still standing at the door when she came in, shifting the bags of food in his arms so that he could shut the door. “Michael,” she said apprehensively. He turned to look at her, and suddenly the words she had meant to say fled. They stood there staring at each other for a moment while neither one could think of what to say.

“Food’s here,” he said, clearly desperate for something to break the silence.

She nodded absently. “I’ll go get some forks,” she muttered as she disappeared into the kitchen again.

Standing there with a door between them, Sara took a deep breath and tried to collect herself. Why had she brought up everything going on with Lincoln? Everything was going just fine. Sure it was a little more awkward post sex than she would have liked, but that could have been rectified by trying to have a normal conversation. Instead she had to go and bring up how she is basically in charge of killing his only brother. Lovely. She took another moment to collect herself before grabbing a couple forks and plates and joining him in the living room again.

Michael was sitting on the couch when she entered the room, unpacking the bags of food. Words failed her again as she watched him. He hadn’t made a move to put any more clothes on, and she could see the outline of his cock through his boxer briefs. Without warning she felt the warmth in her stomach that was a sign of early arousal and had to wonder for a moment what was wrong with her. Here she was torn between trying to convince this man to leave now and wanting to ride him again. She felt like the fast food containers lined up on the coffee table next to the condoms was a metaphor for her current predicament. On one hand, fucking him would feel so good; on the other hand losing him would hurt so much. It was going to hurt bad enough now but in four months… She couldn’t even begin to think about that. He looked up at her suddenly, and she struggled to read the look in his eyes. “Plates,” she said stupidly.

The smile he shot her was amused, but it didn’t appear to reach his eyes. “You planning to get your food telepathically?” His tone just barely seemed teasing as the words passed his lips.

Reluctantly she walked across the room and took a seat on the floor, trying not to let her mind wander to memories of what they had just done on the couch. They both busied themselves with filling their plates with food, neither trying to make conversation. The silence between them was deafening, and she was forced to wonder if he was having a similar conflict in his own mind. Was he having trouble separating the sex from their increasingly dark conversation? “Look,” she began.

He glanced up from his plate and looked at her with those piercing blue eyes of his, causing the words to fail her. The look on his face was intense, and she knew that they were in dangerous territory. Words seemed to be chasing themselves around his mind. “You want me to leave?” he asked at last.

She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a serious question or a threat, but she decided to gamble that he was just asking an innocent question. “I’m just confused, I guess. What are we doing here? Other than eating Chinese food.”

He gave her a small shrug and picked at his food for a moment before he answered. “I don’t really know what we’re doing here.” He glanced up at her again. “We shouldn’t be here, but I don’t want to leave. No one’s really known me in a long time other than you, and you don’t even know me that well yet. That should tell you something. Plus there’s the sex.” The look he gave her was conflicted. Part of her thought he was slowly undressing her with his eyes, but there was something else beneath the surface she couldn’t see. “Then there is everything else,” he added, his face darkening.

“Everything else is pretty big though.” She let the silence fill up between them again. “What’s wrong with us?” she asked. “We shouldn’t even be considering this. It’s not like we’ve known each other our entire lives and something has come out of nowhere to possibly divide us. I met you two months ago; we had no idea of each other existed before then.” That got her a strange look, but she let it pass in the moment.

The silence was almost too much for her to take, but just when she thought he wasn’t going to speak he found something to say. “He’s my brother. Nothing is more important than family, right?” He gave her a serious look. “I have no excuse for this, being here. I shouldn’t be. The only defense I have is that I think Linc would understand. He’s always going on about how he wants me to meet someone and settle down. Well, maybe not his exact words, but that’s basically what he meant in Lincoln.” He smiled shyly all of a sudden. “You know, I don’t just send origami swans to every girl I meant.”

Sara had to think about that for a moment. “But of all the girls you pick me?”

Michael’s expression was thoughtful for a moment before responding, “You don’t always get to choose, right?”

Those words echoed through her mind. If there was any sentiment that was true to the old Sara, it was that. “I’m not sure if I can reconcile that anymore. I mean, I want to do this, and that’s what scares me. I need…” The words caught in her throat.

He gave her a curious look as she struggled to find the right way to explain. “You want me to go?” he finally asked when she hadn’t spoken for a long time.

“No,” she said with a small dark laugh, “No. I want many things, but none of them involve you leaving.” The look she shot him was more than he needed to complete that thought. “But we have to end this.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Are we going to end this?” he asked with a guarded look.

Sara looked up at him, the right answer just on the tip of her tongue. But the proper words refused to come. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t think that we are.” It was the most honest thing she’d said regarding them since they’d met.


	5. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter, a day earlier than hoped. Yay!!! I really hope that you guys like this one. It is a little shorter than the last but not by that much. And there is less smut this time around. It's still significant, but there isn't as much as the last time. (Maybe that's why this chapter is shorter.) Ultimately, I chose relationship progress over them getting naked together at the end of the chapter as planned. For various reasons, it just felt like what transpires between them worked better without the sex. Hopefully that will make sense when you read it, and you will agree with me. (Have no fear, there is more smut coming.) I also tried to spend a bit more time in Michael's head in this one. One of you commented on the last chapter that his motivations weren't that clear, and while that is kind of a part of the story at this point, I did take that to heart. So hopefully by showing things from his perspective, particularly in scenes with him and Sara, it will help paint the picture better. And the last scene, where a lot of the progress between them really comes into play is Michael centric. Hopefully that helps some.
> 
> As I said before, my goal is the get the rest of this written during November and posted over the course of the next two months. We will see how that works out. It does look like I should be on track to finish this story by the end of the year at the very latest, but it shouldn't take that long as long as my current progress holds up. I seem to have found system that works for me as far as writing before work, and that has helped me keep the momentum going thus far. As always, I welcome any questions or comments you may have. I hope you guys enjoy this one.

Chapter 4: February

Sara flashed an apologetic smile to the group at large as she ducked into the meeting five minutes late. She mouthed sorry to Ruth as she took the only vacant seat. Ruth cleared her throat to get the attention of the circle back to herself. “As I was saying, welcome back to everyone. Even Sara who has apparently forgotten what time we meet.” She fixed Sara with a kind smile.

“Sorry. Just running a little late.” Sara looked nervously around the group.

Ruth nodded in response. “Well, you’re here, which is what matters.” She looked around the circle for a moment. “I see a couple of new faces with us this evening. Welcome to you both. My name is Ruth, and I am an addict. I have been sober for twenty years now and running this group for about half of that. I hope that you are able to find a home here with us. If not, there is a place out there for you. It is important that you know that as you continue on your journey to sobriety. Would either of you like to start tonight?” There was a very long silence where both of them looked uncomfortable. “That’s okay,” Ruth said. “You don’t have to share if you don’t feel ready. Does anyone else have something to share?” The whole circle shifted uncomfortably under Ruth’s gaze. No one much liked being the first person to share. “What about you Sara? You were running late, but you’re here at last. That has to count for something. Do you have anything to share tonight?”

Sara glanced around her for a moment. “I actually was just running late, no code involved.” She chuckled lightly, wishing that more of the circle had laughed with her. “Well, to start, my name is Sara, and I’m an addict. I’ve been clean for about three years now, a little over. And it’s been going okay, for the most part. I guess. I’ve had an interesting couple of weeks since we were last here. I almost slipped once, only once, but still. I thought that I was in a good place, that I wasn’t anywhere near the edge, so it kind of took me by surprise. I don’t even remember it, the journey there, but I remember that I was sitting at the bar and there was a drink in front of me. Over three years, and I almost threw it all away because of a fight that I had with of friend.” There was a deep silence around the circle. “I think I know that there was more to it than that. I was in a bad place when I came here a couple of weeks ago, a worse place than I realized. Sitting here with you all helped me to see just how precarious my situation was, or at least could be. I went home and did a lot of thinking about everything really.”

She looked at her fingers twisted together in her lap. When she began to speak again, the words were directed at her hands. “I decided that I needed to give into those selfish impulses that I was feeling. It made me feel like an awful person, but I was afraid that if I didn’t give in to them that I wouldn’t be able to help anyone. I spent the rest of the weekend trying to come up with ways to back away, to find someone to take my place. It seemed like such a good idea while I was considering it.” She looked up at the group uncertainly. “But come Monday, I just felt like I was such a failure that I had even considered walking away from my responsibilities. It didn’t help that the first thing I was told upon showing up to work was that Lincoln wanted to see me. And I thought, how could I have considered abandoning him? Especially given some of my reasons why. I’m a doctor, and I shouldn’t let my personal life effect my treating of patients. I made a mistake, but there was no reason to let it affect me treating Lincoln. So I just threw myself into work even more than usual. I thought if I was distracted that I wouldn’t decide to get drunk or high, I guess. You see how well that worked out.”

She sighed loudly. Everything was so jumbled in her head. “I have this friend that works at the prison with me. Katie. She’s uh, she’s a worrier. I had never told her about my addiction, and I think that’s why. She didn’t know me then, and I was always a little afraid that she would smoother me if she knew. Well, she saw that I was running myself ragged and said something. She cared enough to try and help me. But I was so tired that I snapped at her. It wasn’t my finest moment. The next thing I knew I was in the bar. And fate’s cruel. I didn’t drink, but I did something bad all the same.” She picked at her fingernails while the words struggled to come out of her mouth. “I ran into the very last person I should have, and I replaced one drug for another. If I couldn’t be reckless by drinking then I might as well have inappropriate sex. I think that’s why you’re not supposed to start a relationship during your first year of sobriety, that risk of throwing yourself into a relationship that isn’t healthy or could hurt you. I thought I was past that point, but apparently not.” She smiled grimly. “And of course, it’s just complicated everything even more. I can’t stop thinking about him. But I can’t be with him, right? I keep reminding myself of that, but it hasn’t been entirely successful.”

She fell into silence. Ruth looked at her supportively. “I feel like there are some details missing from that story. What is so bad that you can’t be with someone if you like them? Tell me about this bad thing you did.”

Sara shook her head, trying to put the details into some kind of order so she could explain. “Michael,” she finally said. “My latest addiction.” A hollow laugh left her throat. “He’s Lincoln’s brother. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. The first time he was just there, and I didn’t know who he was. I mean, we had met, but I never made the connection between him and Lincoln. He was just some guy that I thought was hot, and we had a one night stand. Maybe not the wisest thing I could do, but I’m an adult and can make choices like that. Just a one night stand. Until it wasn’t. When I found out I was pissed. How could he not have told me? I knew that we couldn’t be together again. And then I ran into him in the bar. It happened again. And again. A few times now. I keep telling myself that we can’t do this, can’t be together and then end up calling him again.” The words came out in a rush before Sara had thought them through. “You know, there was a time in my life where I could have blamed the drugs or the booze, but I did this completely sober.” She chuckled darkly. “Why do I do things like that? Isn’t sobriety supposed to help me to make better choices?”

“It can. But sometimes those underlying destructive tendencies can be just as much of an issue.” Ruth paused for a moment. “So you had sex with a patient’s brother? It sounds like this is a recurring situation. Under normal circumstances that could be a conflict of interest, but in this case there are more issues at stake. You were already having questions about whether you should continue to treat Lincoln Burrows. Now that you have crossed that line, I imagine that it’s even more difficult to remain objective. What happens now? How do you continue to treat him in light of what happened with his brother?” She smiled sadly and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Sara, you know that I don’t make it a habit to commenting on the choices that other people make. I can advise, but at the end of the day, you must choose for yourself. But I don’t think it is a good idea for you to continue to see Mr. Burrows as a patient. It wasn’t a good idea prior to your encounter with his brother. I think that you know that, or else you wouldn’t have attempted to find other means to help him after the last time you were here.”

Sara shook her head. “There isn’t anyone else. I just have to do my job to the best of my ability. Michael won’t be an issue anymore. I made this mess, and I have to prove to myself that I can clean it up.”

“But the risks this poses to your sobriety are significant.”

Sara frowned to herself for a long moment. “I think that the greater risk is to force myself to live with the regret of not even trying to help him. I can give him some semblance of peace before he dies. Shouldn’t I at least try?”

It was obvious that Ruth was unhappy with this answer. “As I said, in the end we must all make our own choices. I cannot make you see reason no matter how hard I try. Just know that we will all be here when the time comes to pick yourself off the floor.”

That washed over Sara, the words making her angrier than she would have expected. “Yeah, I can’t do this.” She motioned between herself and Ruth. “You’re supposed to be objective. I have made my choice, and you have to accept that. I come here because I want to feel supported, to have someone that I can talk to without worrying what they will say. And sure you judge me for my choices, but you do so silently. That’s how this works. If you can’t uphold your end, then I guess I should try to find somewhere else.”

Sara was out of her chair and out of the door before she could second guess herself. The air was so cold that it stung her lungs as she struggled to calm down. Maybe Ruth was right, and she was headed down a dangerous path. But try as she might, Sara couldn’t find a way out of the situation. She stood there in the cold air contemplating her choices for a moment. Where was she supposed to go from here? This was when she was supposed to have some answer readily available, but nothing came to mind. All the conversations she had had that night played through her head. There was only one thing that she could think to do, but it was likely too late. A quick glance at her watch told her that her choice would have to wait until morning. With a sigh she headed home to craft a plan to deal with the situation her father had gotten her into with Lincoln.

***

Her picture stared out at Michael from the wall as he stood looking over the new plans he had made. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, each look followed by a quick glance at his phone. Wherever he went in the room the eyes of Sara Tancredi seemed to follow him. It was unnerving. She was unnerving. Changing tactics with her had been necessary. He reminded himself of that one more time, hoping this time it would stick. Too much damage had been done to continue with the original plan. So why did he still feel so guilty about it? ‘Maybe because you’re sleeping with her,’ a voice in the back of his mind whispered unhelpfully.

But all of it was necessary. Okay, maybe sleeping with her was unconventional, and could be construed as a real asshole move, but he was sure that it was the only way now. It had to be if he was going to live with himself after all this. All he had done was adjust the plan after it went awry. It wasn’t like he was trying to be maliciously deceitful, trying to use her. He had to work with the resources that he had in front of him. They could have been anything to each other, just friends, colleagues of sorts in the quest to get inside his brother’s head, anything, but she wanted to be lovers. He was merely following her lead, giving her what she wanted. How could he really fault himself for that? After all, when she stopped contacting him abruptly four days ago, he had made no move to reinstate their relationship, had been giving her space. That had to count for something, right? The reasoning still sounded feeble even to his own ears. It wasn’t like he needed to call her anyway. She’d break and contact him again. Days might pass by between, but she always called. Calling him up for sex was just what she did on bad days. It was like a game they were playing, sex and regret. Today she regretted it. But Tomorrow? She always felt differently tomorrow. ‘And that doesn’t make you feel guilty at all?’ the voice asked him again.

It was better that Michael just ignore that one too. If he started concerning himself with those particular details he would never be able to save his brother, and in that case all the ways he had hurt her and used her would be for nothing. That was the part he had to focus on. It was all a part of the plan, every bit of it. So why did he keep glancing at his phone, hoping it would ring? Why did he want to call her? Was that all part of the plan too? Had to be. Right? It wasn’t like he wanted to call her really, not in the way she always wanted to call him. She was just another part of the plan. One more step in the quest to save his brother. All of it was for Lincoln. Every piece of it. And the pieces were almost all in place. He didn’t need to call her; she would call him, same as always. ‘Except you do want to call her.’ Michael chose to ignore that too. He didn’t have time for doubts. The plan was all that mattered now. All that had ever mattered.

His phone chimed suddenly, and he walked over to look at what the message said. The text was simple, ‘We can’t do this anymore’. Michael sighed heavily. Not what he needed to hear just as the new plan was coming together. Still, there was every chance this was just a moment of cold feet. Give her a few days, and she’d have changed her mind again. He just needed to be patient.

***

Sara shifted nervously on the chair outside of the conference room. Now that she was here, she was not entirely sure that her argument would be enough. In the week since she had last spoken to the warden, she had become determined to ensure that her weekly visits with Lincoln Burrows began once more. Even after almost two weeks of this, the thought of her father’s interference still caused her to clench her teeth in rage. How could he have been so meddlesome as to go to her boss’s boss to keep her from treating a patient? Just the lack of respect alone was enough to drive her mad. She didn’t care what he wanted, she was going to fix this, and Sara was going to show up to see Lincoln next week no matter what she had to do. And the week after that too, until it became part of a ritual really. Once a week, she would walk down the hall to the solitary housing unit and enter Lincoln’s cell, and they would talk. Sometimes it would be just about random things. Sometimes it would be things from his past, how things were going with his son. In whatever way she was able to help him, she was going to do it. This was the only way that she could think of to be able to do that. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down some, release some of the anger that had built up at the thought of her father. Now was not the time to get upset. It was going to be hard enough putting her plan into action without her father distracting her thoughts. There were already enough issues plaguing her at the moment without bring Frank Tancredi into it as well. Unfortunately that thought only brought her mind back to the largest problem she was facing at the moment. Michael. An exasperated sigh fell from her lips at the thought of him. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just walk away and leave him be? Things would be so much simpler if she could just do that much. But no matter how many times she reminded herself that she had chosen Lincoln, that she was going to do everything she could to help Lincoln, she couldn’t quite leave Michael alone. It had been about a week since she had broken and called him, but this was probably the fiftieth time since then that she had vowed to herself that it was over. She said it to herself again. From that point on she would very determinedly not call him. She just wouldn’t. It was that simple. The mantra ran through her head again. Don’t call him. It’s simple. Just don’t call him. She had held to it so far. Except for those moments she couldn’t help herself, when she’d slipped and ended up on his cock. And it had been glorious. Almost a few week of giving into her most base urges, and she didn’t want to stop. But now more than ever it was important she stay as far away from Michael as she could before things got even more complicated between them. So far every time they got close to anything more personal than the way it felt when their bodies came together, Sara withdrew until the moment passed, but that wasn’t likely to last long at the rate she was breaking her promises to herself. It was clear now what had to be done. Whatever she had to do, it was important that she didn’t get any more attached than she already was. Sara had promised herself that she wouldn’t get attached to either of the brothers, and that was a promise that she couldn’t break. The thought was at the forefront of her mind as the door opened up in the distance. “Dr. Tancredi?” a man asked from the doorway. “We’re ready for you now.”

Sara rose from her chair, her notes clasped in her arms. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she thought as she walked the length of the carpet toward the conference room. The thought that this was a bad idea and work never work nagged at the back of her mind. But she couldn’t focus on that now. It was important to stay focused now that she was actually about the sit down with members of the DOC. “Thank you so much for seeing me,” she said as her feet carried her over the threshold. She was careful not to let her eyes linger too long upon the group of people clustered around one side of the long table.

“It was on pleasure,” the man who had opened the door for her said. “You did say that it was about one of the inmates. We at the Department of Corrections take claims of potential issues at the prison seriously. Please have a seat doctor.”

Sara followed the instruction gratefully, her knees were ready to give way from nervousness. Once she was seated she waited for one of them to begin. It felt like a long time before anyone spoke. “What brings you here today?” someone finally asked. “Has there been any problems with medical care that need to be brought to our attention?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m actually here to discuss Lincoln Burrows.” There was a noticeable stiffening of backs from the group across from her at the pronouncement. She made an attempt to ignore that, opening her notes with shaking hands. “As I am sure you are aware, a few months ago I began sitting down with him at your request to do a physical and a psychological evaluation prior to his execution this coming May. I sat down with him on a weekly basis up until a couple of weeks ago when those visits were immediately terminated by yourselves.” There was another noticeable reaction that she chose to ignore. She glanced at her notes as some of them shifted uncomfortably as if she was trying to consult her notes to jog her memory and went on. “I am here today in an attempt to get those visits reinstated. I have already tried to go through my direct supervisor only to be told by Warden Pope that you no longer felt that the visit were necessary, but based on the conversations I have had with Burrows, I have to respectfully disagree. The visits are a medical necessity. Which I am sure you are aware, you cannot legally deny to an inmate.”

The room was silent after her pronouncement, the only sound the squeaking of chairs as some of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats again. Many glances were exchanged between them as she waited to see if she needed to go on. “Dr. Tancredi,” one of them began at last with a final glance to his neighbor, “I don’t think that I follow. It was our impression that you wished to cease meeting with Burrows.” He shifted a little in his chair, causing it to squeak some more. “The psych eval is an important part of the execution process, as I’m sure Warden Pope explained, but we agreed to wave it in this case since Burrows makes you so uncomfortable and there is no other doctor at the prison. We assumed that you were already done with your report anyway.”

Sara felt her jaw clench as he spoke. Of course her father would have put it off on her. He never could take full responsibility for his actions. She had long since wondered if it was a politician thing or just the way that he was. Maybe both. There was one thing for sure, he was not a “the buck stops here” kind of person. It would be easy for her to lose her temper here and make the situation worse, but she had come here for a purpose and needed to stay focused. The problem was how to get the conversation back on track. What was she supposed to say to all of that? A million ideas popped into her head, each one worse than the last. Finally she said, “I have to assume that my father was the one that told you that.” It wasn’t what she had wished to discuss, but if it was the only way she would have to deal with it. There were more nervous glances among the group. She considered how to go on. “I understand,” she began at last, “that he must have put you into an awkward position. I apologize for that. At least one Tancredi should.” A small nervous laugh escaped as she said the last bit. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I just came here to have a very particular conversation, and this was not it. Should have realized. I mean, I’ve only known the man my whole life.”

“Dr. Tancredi,” one of them said, pulling her from her rambling.

“Sorry,” she said again. She took a deep breath and went on. “Despite what you have been told, I am not uncomfortable doing the evaluation on Lincoln.” She knew that was a lie even as she said it, but for reasons she didn’t plan to get into with them. “And if I was uncomfortable doing so I would have spoken to Warden Pope about it or come to you guys personally. I don’t ask for my father to fight my battles for me. My not talking to Lincoln is his thing, not mine. Again, I am very sorry that he called and deceived you, but hopefully, now that we have cleared that up, there shouldn’t be any problem going forward.”

Of course she knew that it wasn’t going to be that simple. It never was with her father. They were all looking between themselves uncomfortably. Finally someone toward the end of the table spoke. “If the governor has reservations about these meetings I don’t know how comfortable I feel allowed them to continue.”

“What does my father have to do with an inmate’s medical care?” she asked. No one responded to that and she decided to play the only card she think to play. “At this moment in time I cannot sign off on the execution.”

“You haven’t finished your evaluation yet?” The man who asked sounded a little disbelieving at the notion.

“No, I have,” Sara responded. “And I have found Lincoln Burrows to be depressed and suicidal. Without proper treatment, I cannot sign off.”

“We can bring in another doctor to evaluate him,” one of them said, a threat in his voice.

Sara shrugged. “You can, but I can tell you right now that he won’t talk to them. It took me more than a month before he would talk to me. After which my visits were abruptly terminated. The reason of which I have not even been able to explain to him. There is no telling how much this interference has set us back, if he will even still trust me. Adding in any new elements will only makes things worse. I would like to continue as soon as possible. Are there any objections that don’t involve my father?”

There was a long moment of quiet at that. She gave them a little longer to object before rising. “I expect that you will inform Warden Pope that I can be allowed to continue.”

“Of course,” one of them said begrudgingly.

“Thank you so much for your time,” she said with a smile before heading for the door. Once she was outside she let out a long held breath. Now she all she had to do was continue to help to execute Lincoln. Not what she wanted, but it was the only option available to her.

***

Lincoln shifted on the stool and watched his brother take a seat on the other side of the glass. “How you been?” he asked as Michael looked over his shoulder. It had been this way for a while; every time his brother came to visit he acted like he was worried about being watched. They were being watched of course, but that wasn’t a recent development. “Is something wrong?” Lincoln asked.

Michael looked back to him guiltily. “No. Everything’s fine.”

Lincoln gave him a searching stare. “Bullshit,” he said. “What’s up with you?”

His brother shrugged. “Nothing, I told you. I’ve just been busy.”

“With work?” He placed the question carefully, always cautious about what could be overheard by the guard standing behind him.

Michael looked uncomfortable and even shiftier than usual, like he was contemplating saying something Lincoln wouldn’t like. He feared that he knew what was on his brother’s mind. Instead Michael said, “Actually I’ve been seeing someone.” He looked guilty as he said it.

Lincoln let out a breath of relief. There were other things he thought his brother might have been busy with. But this was good. A woman he could get behind. “That’s great!” he said. “I was starting to fear you’d forgotten what your cock was for.”

“Lincoln!” Michael protested, another quick look around himself. “It isn’t nearly as uncouth as that. People have more in a relationship than sex.”

Lincoln shrugged in turn. “Of course you’d say that. But you are sleeping with her, right?” Michael rolled his eyes and didn’t respond. “Come on, you have to tell me something.”

“There isn’t anything to tell. We’ve just been hanging out, getting to know each other.”

“Naked?” Michael rolled his eyes, but Lincoln could tell by his awkward shifting that he had hit the mark. “This is good. I like this development,” he said. “You should be out there living like a human being instead of that absurd vow of celibacy you seemed so intent on for the last few years.” He chuckled to himself. “Though I fear you might not know what you’re doing. It’s okay if you are. I’m your big brother; it’s my job to give you pointers.”

“Because you’re just getting some left and right at the moment,” Michael shot back without thinking. The guilt was clear on his face as he realized what he’d said.

Lincoln snorted. “Now that’s just hurtful,” he joked. “My own brother.” Michael sighed but didn’t say anything. The annoyed look on his face made Lincoln laugh even more. “You know that I just like messing with you. It’s my job after all. For the next few months at least.”

Michael shifted awkwardly. There were sure to be words that he was dying to say, probably along the lines of wanting to help, but Lincoln was saved from having, yet again to shut down that train of thought. “How have things been going with the doctor?” his brother asked instead.

The question wasn’t a comfortable one. She hadn’t been by once in the last few weeks even though she had promised. He had given up that she would ever come by to see him again. “That’s over,” he said with a shrug. “Couple of weeks now.” He had worked hard to ignore the pain her absence caused him. There was something conflicted on Michael’s face that Lincoln couldn’t understand. “All for the best,” he added before he brother could comment. “I was sick of talking to her anyway.”

To his surprise, his brother dropped it. “If you say so. What else have you been up to if she hasn’t been by?”

“Nothing much. Just counting the days. Not much else to do.” The guard behind him rattled the cage. “Looks like time’s up,” he said with a quick look between the man and his brother. “Tell LJ that I said hi.”

“I will,” Michael replied, standing. “I’ll see you next week.”

Lincoln nodded, rising as well and let himself be led back to his cell.

***

Sara stood in front of her desk thinking seriously about where her notes could have gone. How could she have misplaced them after all the work she had gone to getting her meetings with Lincoln reinstated? She had been seriously distracted lately, but surely she hadn’t lost them. This was a meeting that she had been working towards for weeks and needed to make sure and show up prepared. It was going to be hard enough as is. “Hey Katie,” she called through the open doorway as the nurse passed by. “Have you seen my notes?”

Katie stopped in her tracks and entered the room, coming to stand next to Sara and looking pointedly at the desk that was piled high with files. “I assume you don’t mean any of that,” she said with a vague gesture at the mess.

Sara rolled her eyes. It had been a couple of weeks since she had given up all attempts to reorganize the file cabinet, and her office was still a mess from her aborted efforts. “Okay, maybe I need help with the files. But for now I need to find the notebook with all my notes on Lincoln in it, or I’m going to be late.” All that received Sara was a blank look. “I’m supposed to be there in ten minutes, so I need to find it before I’m late for the first meeting we’ve had in nearly a month. Things are bad enough as they are without me showing up late and unprepared. It’s just a black composition book. Help me look?” She put on her best pleading expression hoping it would help win the nurse over to her cause.

Katie chuckled in a good natured way and began to help sort through the files in the hopes that the notebook was somewhere under all the mess. “What do you even talk to him about?” she asked quietly. This was the first time that Katie had ever shown an interest in Sara’s appointments with Burrows other than to express her belief they shouldn’t continue.

Sara shrugged, glad that her friend was showing an interest instead of lecturing her more about trying to dive right back in with Lincoln again just when she’d had an out. “We talk about a lot of things, I guess. Honestly, it’s kind of personal, confidential.”

There was a pointed silence that spread between them for a long moment. “I guess I just don’t see how Burrows could be interesting enough to go back and talk to for weeks on end,” the nurse said with a shrug. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Hot Parking Lot Guy, would it?” Katie was still insistent on keeping with the nickname she’d given Michael because she knew that it was a good way of teasing Sara. “He wouldn’t happen to want you to keep at it or anything? That I could understand. It’s been awhile since I caught a peak at the brother, but as I recall, very gorgeous. A man that looks like that could get a woman to do just about anything.”

Sara rolled her eyes again. “This has nothing to do with Michael. I just think that Lincoln needs help, someone to talk to, and it’s kind of my job to help if I can.” She was glad as she spoke that Katie didn’t know about her repeat performances with Michael. Even though it was definitely over, Katie was sure to read something in them. There was no point in dredging it all up now that it was done. “And yet again, he and I did not meet in the parking lot. Why do you insist on calling him that?”

She got no answer to that and continued her search in silence. While Sara’s head was ducked down, looking for her notes, Katie managed to fish out a black notebook from beneath the stacks. She began to flip through it a little to make sure it was the right one before mentioning the find. Some of the words on the page popped out at her. “Why do they always blame their mothers?” she asked without thinking.

Sara looked up. “Give me that,” she said in mock annoyance, grabbing for the journal in her friend’s hands. “I told you, it’s personal.”

Katie handed over the notebook but didn’t let the subject drop. “That’s the great enlightenment you’ve been getting from Burrows, that his mommy doesn’t love him? I mean, it’s no real surprise. Don’t they all blame their mothers?”

“You read something out of context.” Sara paused for a moment. “It’s not about whether or not he’s interesting or even saying something different than everybody else. I think that he needs to make peace with his impending death. That’s why I go back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”

Katie made a show of stepping aside even though she hadn’t been in her friend’s way. “That still begs the question if you’re going to tell him about your last encounter with the brother,” she added as Sara was walking away.

If only Katie knew about their last encounter. “We are done discussing that,” Sara yelled playfully over her shoulder as she made her way out of the office. Yeah, she was definitely glad she hadn’t confessed to calling Michael now. She’d never hear the end of it if she had. Living with the memories was torture enough. If she wasn’t careful, she was liable to do something stupid like call him again. But for now she needed to stay focused on what mattered, her first meeting with Lincoln since her father had chosen to interfere.

***

Lincoln pulled on the chains around his wrists absently, hearing them clink together. It was a familiar sound at this point, something that had almost become a part of him. He wondered what had caused this. The guard that had put the shackles on him hadn’t explained, just left Lincoln to wonder what was going on. The hinges squeaked as the door swung open. It had been so long since Lincoln had given up ever seeing her again that the sight of Dr. Tancredi was almost like a dream. He sat there silently watching her enter the cell slowly, cautiously. “Hello Lincoln,” she said just as cautiously.

He let the greeting pass without further comment. Whatever game she was playing would have to be a solo endeavor. His eyes followed her to the corner, careful to notice her unease as the cell door shut. Whatever progress they had made prior to this had evaporated in the weeks she had left him alone. She seemed to know that this was the case by the way she decidedly did not meet his gaze. “How have you been?” she asked, her shifty. It was obvious that something had happened to upset the doc. She didn’t quite look at him as she spoke, and Lincoln couldn’t put his finger on what had happened. He wanted to ask, but that usually didn’t end well. So he waited to say anything until he had a better idea what was going on with her.

“You would know the answer to that question.” He left the broken thought hanging in the air.

She shifted uncomfortably and shot him an uncertain look. “I want to apologize for that. I was not my intention to not come back.” There was something in her eyes as she worked to weigh her words. “There were circumstances beyond my control. The DOC seemed to think that there wasn’t any more reason for us to talk, but I have sorted things out now.” She was looking at him now, her eyes boring into him, pleading for some forgiveness. “I tried to get permission to come explain, but I wasn’t allowed to see you at all.”

“Allowed?” he questioned. “I didn’t know that you could be not allowed to do something.”

She shrugged. “It’s complicated. I just hope that you know that I never meant to leave you without an explanation. You deserved at least that.”

“So you’ve come to explain?” A quick glance at the notebook in her lap told him that wasn’t the case. “Or have you come back for more?”

The look she gave him was guarded, whatever was plaguing her thoughts she worked hard not to show. “I was hoping we could continue talking, if that’s still alright with you.”

Lincoln wasn’t so sure that was alright with him. After all she had basically abandoned him, even if it hadn’t been entirely her fault. If what she said was even true. How did he know that she hadn’t just made it all up to look better, to get sympathy? “And if I don’t want to talk anymore?” he asked, each word placed carefully. “You clearly stopped wanting to talk to me. Maybe I’ve come to feel the same in the time you left me to sit here with my thoughts.”

She gave him a little nod of understanding, no anger clouding her face that he could see. “I understand that you probably don’t believe me when I say that I never meant for that to be the case.”

“I finished that letter you wanted me to write and everything, but you never came.” The words were out before he could consider them.

The doc looked sheepish at that at least. “That’s good Lincoln,” she said. “Did you mail it?”

He dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “You don’t get to do that. You can’t just leave and then come back expecting that I will just be okay with someone else popping in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for them.”

“Like your father?” she asked instead of addressing any of what he had said.

He rolled his eyes and shifted a little on the bed, the better to look at her. The chains rattled as he moved, another reminder of the toll her presence had on his life. “You don’t get to do that, crawl back into my life with your questions.” He scoffed lightly. “My father,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well we’ve never talked about him. I thought maybe this situation brought him to mind, someone you’ve come to be used to disappearing from your life suddenly. Or maybe your mother. They both abandoned you in a way. Though your mother probably didn’t mean to, your father did. I’m sure his disappearance hurt.”

“I was a kid, don’t really remember it.” He glared at her as she scribbled down his response. “More notes I see.”

“Always.” Sara started flipping through her notebook, probably looking for where they had left off the last time. Whatever she was looking at made her frown even more. “It seems that we’ve never talked about your father. There doesn’t seem to be anything much about him.”

Lincoln shrugged. “Because there isn’t really anything to say about him. He left when I was little, and all I know about him is his name: Aldo Burrows. Don’t remember him at all. I was, what, two when he took off.” That seemed to make her frown even more. “Problem Doc?”

“Aren’t you almost four years older than your brother?” There was a curious note to her tone that he wasn’t sure how to read.

“Oh Michael isn’t old Aldo’s. I have no idea who his father is to be honest; he took off too. Mom sure knew how to pick them.” He looked at her closely, on the verge of asking about this line of questioning, but there was something about her demeanor that cautioned against it. “It’s never much mattered to us that we’re only half-brothers, but that’s why he has a different last name as me. He has her name. Scofield. The son she always wanted.”

“I thought that maybe he’d changed it or something,” she replied without much feeling. Despite her apparent lack of interest in the conversation she did appear to be chewing over something. Finally her curiosity won over whatever had been holding her back. “Were you two always close growing up? I only ask because you don’t seem to have that much in common. Obviously being orphaned at a young age would have acted as a bonding experience but before that.”

He thought over that question for a moment. It all seemed so long ago. “I think so. I guess it’s been so long that I don’t really remember anymore. I mean, we fight.”

“You’re brothers,” she conceded with a small nod in his direction.

He chuckled lightly at that observation. “I think we were close. Maybe not as close, but you know, opposites attract. I was always trying to get him to be more adventurous growing up; he was always trying to make me book smart. Felix and Oscar. That old story. Sometimes I think we don’t fully know how to talk to each other, but I think that we’ve always been close. Despite our mother’s attempts to the contrary.”

He knew that that would lead to questions on her part, but she waited for him to explain himself in his own time. Her whole body was rigid with the attempt to hold off, yet she managed to wait. After a long silence he cleared his throat and went on. “I guess I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking since we started this, and the more I remember the more things don’t quite add up. That doesn’t make much sense, I know. My brother and I, when we’d spend time together growing up, if Mom saw us she’s always send me away. ‘Go play outside Lincoln’. She said that one a lot. Or she’d come up with some project for Michael. He loved building things, even when he was really little.” He frowned deeply. These were things that he never imagined that he would say out loud, thoughts that had been haunting his dreams. “She always said that it was because she didn’t want to have to hear us arguing, but I don’t remember fighting that often. Of course it happened, I remember that much. Who doesn’t fight with their brother? But I don’t ever remember her separating us when we were fighting. It was always when we were getting along.”

“Why do you think that is?” Sara’s pen seemed to be at the ready for him to say something noteworthy.

All Lincoln could think to do was shrug. “She was just afraid I’d be a bad influence, I guess.” It certainly sounded true as he said the words. She always had wanted to protect Michael from everything, especially Lincoln.

Sara looked like she was thinking that one over for a long time. “Were you a bad influence back then?” She sounded unsure as she flipped through her notes for a second. “Because everything I found showed that you didn’t really start getting into trouble until she died. It makes sense in context, your mother dies, and you start acting out. That’d actually quite common. Kind of like the situation with your own son.” When she looked back up at him her expression was grave.

“I mean, I guess that’s true. Who knows?” He shrugged again. This was very much a conversation that he wished that he had never started. Talking about his mother the last time had left him irritable for days. “Look,” he said with a sigh, “Just forget that I said anything. It’s probably just me remembering things wrong. It’s been years now since all that happened; it’s past. What’s that called? Hindsight? Don’t they say something about that?”

“That it’s 20/20,” she supplied automatically. “It means that looking back you see things clearer. Usually it’s used about choices that you have made that you can see now were a mistake.”

He nodded absentmindedly. “I have some of that too then,” he muttered to himself. The doc was kind enough not to comment. “But back to your original question, yes, me and Michael have always been close.”

She was too busy scribbling for a long moment to do much more than nod. When she finally looked up at him there was an unusual look in her eye, like there was something going on behind the scenes that she wasn’t telling. “That’s good then,” she said, voice guarded, “that you guys are close, I mean. I’m an only child, so I don’t know about all that. It’s great for you guys though.” She shook her head, a frown forming on her face. “Never mind,” she said softly.

Lincoln watched her for a second, not really sure what he was supposed to think of her demeanor. She was back to scribbling in her notebook, eyes cast down. There was something to the set of her shoulders that could mean so many things. If only he had been better at reading people. If his brother were here, she would have been an open book. But it was just the two of them, and though he wanted to ask what she was thinking, Lincoln knew that he wouldn’t get a straight answer. Instead he turned the conversation to a slightly different topic. “You know he’s apparently started seeing someone.”

Her head snapped up suddenly at his words. “What?” Sara asked, a wild look in her eyes.

The reaction caught Lincoln by surprise, but he worked hard to cover up his curiosity. “Yeah,” he replied with a careful glance at the way her hands gripped the pen so tightly that it looked in danger of breaking in half. “He told me about it last time he came to visit. It’s about time too. I was starting to think he would never meet anyone. I guess he really likes this girl. Though between you and me, he was stingy on the details. But a brother knows. He’s super into her.” All that got him was a small nod. She looked uncomfortable in a way he hadn’t really seen on her before. “You okay doc?” he asked, watching her closely.

“Fine,” she replied, though she didn’t sound it. “Don’t mind me. You were saying?”

He watched her for a moment, the grip on her pen let up a little, but she still seemed on edge. That was something else he’d need to puzzle over once she was gone. “Nothing much else to say,” he said. “Just a fun fact since we were discussing my brother. Apparently he has a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” she asked sharply. “He said that?”

Lincoln had no clue where the question might have come from. There was something beneath her gaze that bothered him. Why would she care so much about Michael’s personal life? “Can’t remember,” he said, testing the waters to see how she would react.

Sure enough her fingers closed around the pen once more, strangling the life out of it. When she spoke her words were calm, measured, but the composure didn’t translate to her face. “That’s nice for him either way. I know that you were concerned about him closing himself off.”

Lincoln shrugged. It sounded like a worry he might have voiced to her at some point, but he wondered if she was fishing, more of her bullshit about him being angry at his brother. “Isn’t one brother supposed to be happy for the other?” he said with a pointed look.

“Of course,” Sara said. “I wouldn’t expect anything else. I just know that you were worried about him. That’s all.”

He let the moment pass in case she wasn’t trying to goad him. It was easy to remind himself that she had abandoned him, just left him to rot for nearly a month, and not so easy to acknowledge that she was clearly trying now. He made an effort to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Hopefully he isn’t a shithead and ruins it like I would do,” he said as a peace offering.

At least that was what Lincoln had thought he’d given her, but the comment seemed to unnerve Sara even more if the way she shifted on the stool was any indication. “I’m sure that it’s complicated,” she said after a prolonged silence. He wanted to ask what she meant by that, but before he could speak she continued speaking. “I am sorry to do this, but I need to get back to the infirmary.” She looked guilty as she said it, but he still suspected that there was something else she wasn’t saying. “I have an appointment coming in.” And that wasn’t it.

Lincoln shrugged. “Other convicts to tend to, got it. I’ll try not to hold it against you.” He meant for that to come out light, but his tone betrayed him.

“I will come back Lincoln,” she said with emphasis.

He gave her a half nod, a skeptical expression on his face. “If you say so,” he muttered.

Though she looked like she wanted to say something, Sara rose from the table in the corner and gathered her things. “I will see you sometime next week,” she said once she reached the door.

Before he could express his continued uncertainty that was true, she banged on the door to let the guard know to open it and was gone once more. Who knew for how long this time? Probably forever with Lincoln’s luck. He finally finds someone to talk to and they go away. Everyone always went away, ever since he was a kid. Now that was a thought to let the doc in on. Maybe he’d tell her if she ever came back.

***

The rain was streaking against the windows of the building as Michael headed down the hall toward his office. He had sprinted into the building to get out of the downpour, but the rapid patter was actually kind of nice now that he was inside, soothing. Something about the rain outside had always soothed him, even when he was a little kid. Maybe the storm would be beneficial for his concentration. There were still so many details to iron out on the governor’s downtown project, and Michael knew that they needed to break ground soon before he put his plan to save Lincoln into motion. As always, the guilt of the trouble he was liable to cause them all with his actions settled down around him as he turned the corner. He looked up to find Sara standing across of him, a shocking welcome to the day. Her eyes wouldn’t stay still as she looked around the room, obviously uncomfortable standing in front of Lola’s desk. In his mind he counted the days, the weeks, the months, since all of this had all begun, since he had first made the mistake of sleeping with her. There was hardly any time left to save his brother. It was difficult for him to put his finger on what seeing her now meant to him. Was it relief he felt? Guilt? Uncertainty? She had been the one that suggested they put an end to their relationship before Michael could really reorganize his plans. Now, she was standing in front of his office, an uncertainty of her own etched on her face. Michael could only stand there, unsure what to say or do.

Lola glanced between the pair of them as they stood there for a moment staring at each other. “Mr. Scofield,” she said in a tone that implied she had just noticed he was there. “I’m glad you’re here; it’s been a busy morning. Here are your messages.” She handed him a stack of pink pages; the top page displayed a simple message: ‘She insisted on waiting for you.’ Lola waited for him to read the note before going on. “And this is Dr. Sara Tancredi. She was hoping to speak with you if you had a moment before your meeting this morning.”

Michael looked at her sharply. Did he have a meeting this morning? The glint in her eyes told him that he didn’t, that she was merely trying to provide an excuse for him to get out of the interview. But this was a conversation that he needed to have. “No, I think that I have a moment,” he said with a quick glance at the good doctor. “Why don’t you come in?”

He could feel Lola’s eyes on his back as he ushered Sara into his office. The inevitable questions already percolating in her mind already haunting him. When was the last time they had spoken about Sara? The first time she had come by? Had he ever confessed to her all the other deep dark secrets he’d told no one else? Surely not. Surely she didn’t know that this wasn’t the first time the pair had come face to face since he’d hidden behind his desk to avoid her. The questions helped to distract him from what really haunted him, the reasons that Sara might have shown up at his office out of nowhere. But once the door closed behind them he knew that he had to turn his attention back to the problem at hand. But what to say to her? He racked his brain for something. “You look well,” he said, for nothing better to say.

Sara turned to look back at him, an odd expression on her face. “Well? Interesting phrasing. Are we distant relatives that haven’t seen each other in ages?”

Michael shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, not sure where his eyes were supposed to go. He definitely found it tempting to allow them to stray longer and take in her frame. The heavy coat she wore helped keep him honest but not by much. Having her so close made it difficult to think in a way he wasn’t used to. This certainly wasn’t the first time she had made him feel like a hormone addled teenager, but it was probably best if he didn’t think about that in a big glass room. There was no telling where those thoughts might lead him. It also wouldn’t be the first time he threw caution to the wind and had her regardless of who might see. Now that would have been fun trying to explain to Lola after Sara was gone. He needed to stay focused. Not let the good doctor get into his head. “How can I help you?” he asked, partly hoping that this was strictly business. As if to remind her he added, “Is everything okay with Lincoln?”

She looked sheepish at the mention of his brother. “He seemed okay when I saw him yesterday,” she said as she walked away from him, stopping to stare out the window at the rain soaked streets below. He had thought that she wasn’t meeting with his brother anymore, but he had no time to question it before she began speaking again. Her voice rang out softly as she continued with her back to him. “When I was a little girl I always wondered what it must be like to work in one of these buildings. So high up with the world going on so far down below that people look like ants. Like that one.” Her finger followed someone down on the sidewalk. “Do you think it’s male or female? Just another worker collecting food for the queen you reckon?”

Michael watched her from his spot near the door, unsure what he was supposed to say or do in response. Clearly he wasn’t the only one struggling with the awkwardness of their meeting in public. So far they had proven themselves only really capable of tearing each other’s clothes off. The last time he was in her apartment came back to him suddenly. He should have known that falling asleep would end badly, but it had been a long day, the events leading up to their nap only exacerbating the issue. They hadn’t spoken since then other than her text ending things. Now here she was mere feet away wearing entirely too many clothes. What he wouldn’t give for the chance to bend her over his desk and make her moan. But that wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about. The sex was only necessary if she wanted it, if that was the only thing he could give her to get her help, and he needed to remember that instead of coming up with new things to do to her. The image was hard to shake as he worked to pull her attention back to her visit. “How can I help you Dr. Tancredi?” he asked, careful to keep his voice even, professional, the way things were supposed to be.

He could see her eyes in the glass, the way they flitted around uncertainly. “I actually wanted to talk to you about… well, about us, actually. I’ve been thinking a lot, and maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” she finally said. Sara turned away from the window to look at him seriously.

Michael’s mind raced at the suggestion. What could she mean by that? Was there a right way to do whatever they were doing? Did she want to continue to sleep together? Was that why she was here? As much as he needed for what they had to continue, ending things was like an out in a way, an escape from the guilt of using her. A part of him wanted to cling to that life raft, just let her walk out the door and never see her again, but something held him back. “You were the one that decided we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” he pointed out. “That was four days ago. Not to mention the last time we…” He struggled for the right word. “Spent time together,” he finally supplied lamely.

She looked around awkwardly before replying. “That’s completely true,” she admitted. “But I’ve done a lot of thinking since then, about you and me.”

“And?” It felt like looking a gift horse in the mouth to ask, and he was kicking himself for saying anything that might send her walking out the door again. But the question came out before he could stop it.

Her eyes didn’t quite meet his own. “I just think that we have fun together. We could continue having fun. If you wanted.”

He smirked at that. “Did you really come to my job in the middle of the day for a booty call after throwing me out of your apartment, almost completely naked? And then ending things via text message on top of that?”

She definitely looked embarrassed at that but decided to push through. Her eyes flicked to the glass walls that surrounded his office. “I didn’t come here specifically for that. Not that it wouldn’t be a bonus, but here might not be the best place.” She gave him a shy smile. “It’s a little early, but I suppose you could take a long lunch. Tell your ever diligent assistant out there you had important business to attend to. You could let me make up to you for throwing you out, as well as my other sins. You could come over, or we could go to your place. You live closer.”

The suggestion knocked the wind out of him. “My place?” He hoped that the words sounded less panicked as they fell from his lips than they did in his head.

If her bemused expression was any indication, he had probably failed to keep his composure after all. “Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve never seen it after all. Hardly seems fair for us to only fuck on my couch; your couch might get upset. We wouldn’t want the furniture to get jealous.”

She continued laughing, but all he could do was frown deeply. “My place is a mess.” It was the first excuse he could think of. The memory of his pristine kitchen flashed behind his eyes as the words came out.

“Worse than mine?” she pointed out.

That was true. He had never seen her place not be reminiscent of a disaster zone. The few times he had been there it had been difficult, stressful, to see just how out of order she could let things be. Messy definitely didn’t faze her. He knew that he had to look uncomfortable as he tried to come up with another lie, one she’d believe. An idea popped into his head. “Look, it’s complicated. There are things that you don’t know about me, things that I can’t tell you. Work stuff that’s still under wraps.”

She nodded. “Oh, I get that. I promise to mind my own business then.”

Despite her words, something about the set of her shoulders told him that she was still clearly upset. There had been a reason she had come here, and for some reason Michael suspected that it wasn’t for a booty call. Usually when she wanted to fuck she called him up and asked him to come over. She didn’t come to his office first thing in the morning and stare at him uncertainly in full view of his assistant. Maybe she was questioning their relationship. Did she want more from him? He should have known that there would have to be a little more investment on his part than just sleeping with her when she called. Of course she’d want things to be more proper, official. But was that something he could give her? There was a moment where they just stood there looking at each other as he considered how to proceed. On the one hand, getting in deeper was more likely to end with her hurt when she inevitably found out the truth. On the other, he knew keeping her close would make it easier when the time came to break out Lincoln. The voice in the back of his mind that whispered that there were other reasons to keep her close was promptly ignored for the time being. Instead he chose to gamble a little. “What about tonight?” he asked with a roguish grin. “If you really are intent on making it up to me, that is. I have a work dinner that I have to go to; you could be my date.” He paused to think about his next words for a second before going on. “We can go to my place after.”

Opposed to appearing satisfied, Sara looked appalled at the suggestion. “Uh…” she mumbled. “I don’t think that is such a good idea.” She gave a little sigh, looking down at her feet as she shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that I don’t like you Michael. Because I do. I really do. That’s the problem, that I like you.” She glanced back up at him guiltily.

It wasn’t really news, but the words coming out of her mouth still shocked him a little. There was a difference between suspecting something and actually knowing it. You like me, I like you had just been something he had said that he thought might keep her from kicking him out of her apartment. He hadn’t actually considered that there might actually be something to it for her, not seriously, not with all her reservations. But maybe her liking him was a part of her concerns. The idea seemed right, but he decided to play dumb anyway. “I guess I don’t understand then. If you like me, why is it such a bad idea?”

Her eyes darted around the room once more. “Because we need boundaries, rules. I keep telling myself that I won’t call you, reminding myself that I can’t call you, but that always lasts for about five seconds.” She shot him a sheepish look. “It’s a little difficult when every time I go to relieve a little stress the only thing I can think about his you. Makes me want to call you, make a few more memories to relive later on. But I can’t keep doing this back and forth thing we’ve been doing.”

She certainly wasn’t the only one who struggled to keep their escapades from her mind. Michael had spent a lot of time recollecting the events that took place before she finally kicked him out the last time. After a long day when nothing was coming together like he wanted it to, there were many nights where the only thing that allowed sleep to come was the thought of her beneath him as he fisted his cock. “What exactly are you proposing?” he asked with a suggestive smirk. “This certainly sounds like a booty call to me.”

Sara gave him a look that struck him as part affectionate, part exasperated. “I thought this might be a good place to talk, windows, an audience, day time. All factors that lead to a higher probability that we will keep our clothes on.”

“Okay,” he said carefully, “Let’s talk then, clothed. There’s a first time for everything I suppose.” He let the words fall from his lips effortlessly, glad that he was able to mask his troubled thoughts.

“Like I said, we have fun together,” she began after a moment. “I propose that we continue having fun for a while at least. But just that, fun. No feelings. Ever. That’s the deal. We can never cross that line.”

There was a twisting in his gut that he couldn’t explain as her words washed over him. Why did her suggestion hurt just a little? He pushed the thought from his mind, putting on his best smirk. “So what you’re saying is that you want my cock but not to date me. That’s just hurtful.” He said it with a mock offended lilt to his voice as he pushed the real hurt out of view.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Like you weren’t having fun.”

He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s still hurtful to be thought of as a piece of meat,” he continued to tease. Something passed across her face, an uncertainty there that he wanted very much to be able to untangle. “What’s brought this on?” he asked, returning the conversation to a more serious ground. “You ended things; they could have just stayed ended.”

She gave a slight shrug. “I’ve almost called you many times since then. It was only a matter of time before I hit dial. I missed you,” she admitted. “And not just that part of you. Though I am a fan.” She gave him a shy smile. “It’s just difficult, this whole thing. I guess, I don’t mean that we can’t be more than two people who occasionally hook up. But I can’t be your girlfriend Michael.” She said it with a very significant look that he didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

A panicked look crossed her face. “You didn’t mean me,” she muttered. “Of course you didn’t. Why would you mean me?” There was a long moment of silence. “Just forget that I was here and said anything. I should probably get to the prison now. Nice seeing you again.”

Michael stood there in shook for a moment, almost too long to catch her before she walked out the door. “Hold up,” he said, reaching out to gently pull her back. “What are you talking about?” She looked uncomfortable, and he was vaguely aware that Lola was watching them out of the corner of her eye through the glass. There were going to be so many questions once this was over, but for now he needed to focus. A thought suddenly hit him. “Wait? Did Lincoln say something to you?”

The guilt written on her face was enough of an answer. “I’m really not supposed to discuss conversations I have with patients,” she replied, eyes flicking only briefly to his face.

“But coming to my office to suggest we be fuck buddies based on information gathered from my brother is well within the parameters of doctor/patient confidentiality?” he said with a laugh. Though his amusement only lasted for a moment, the humor quickly replaced by a trepidation that he wasn’t sure about. “Does he tell you other things about me?” What he thought that Lincoln might have told her he wasn’t sure about, but surely there was something that his brother could reveal that she shouldn’t know.

She looked guilty again for a moment before saying, “Not really. He just happened to mention that you were seeing someone.”

Michael was sure that there was something else she wasn’t telling him, but he suspected that now was not the time he would get it out of her. Instead he filled the information away for later. He considered a good cover story to tell to explain his confession. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but he assumed that busy meant work. I just wanted to shut him up. I never told him it was you though.” He paused for a moment, considering. “And I never called you my girlfriend.”

She relaxed a little at his words. “I still feel stupid,” she muttered.

He gave her a smile. “Don’t feel stupid,” he said. “Lincoln just gets ahead of himself sometimes. I’d offer to set him straight, but that might prove problematic since he doesn’t know about us.” He let his hand drop from her elbow but took a little half step toward her, closing the distance noticeably. The words he said next took even him by surprise. “Especially if us continuing to see each other is still on the table.”

Though there was noticeable trepidation in her eyes, Sara held her ground. “No feelings? Just two people that fuck sometimes?”

For some reason he found that the suggestion took a moment of consideration. This was exactly what he had wanted just five minutes ago. Now something held him back. This was his chance to get out of the mess he had put himself in, to go back to the original plan. Sure, the part involving her would be slightly more complicated, but if he played his cards right it could still work. All she would need to do was leave him alone in the infirmary from time to time. Surely he hadn’t messed things up to the point that she wouldn’t trust him even that far. He could walk away, absolve his guilt. And she never need to know that he’d used her, slept with her while planning to break his brother out of prison. He opened his mouth to say some version of that minus the manipulation and betrayal. “Not sometimes,” he said, taking them both by surprise. Before he could stop himself he had too much momentum. “If we do this, we have to do it. No more indecision and second guessing. No feelings I can do, but I can’t keep wondering if you’re going to throw me out as soon as we’re done having fun. So fuck buddies. Friends who get naked together. A lot. That I will agree to.” He took a moment to pause, second guessing the last thing he wanted to say. But the words came out anyway. “And we occasionally do things together that involve clothes. As part of the friends thing. Like, this dinner tonight, I could really use someone there to distract me from the torture that is some of my coworkers. It wouldn’t be a date, date, just one friend helping out another. Something I would of course be more than willing to repay after… at my apartment.”

The suggestion seemed to give her pause. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before words actually came out. “Okay then,” she said.

“Okay?” he asked, a little shocked that she had agreed so quickly.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just friends hanging out, right?”

“Right,” he said with a slight nod.

A silence crept up between them for a moment. “I should probably…” she gestured toward to door. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Despite her words she still didn’t leave the office. Michael wondered if he was supposed to kiss her goodbye or something. But that wasn’t something you did if you weren’t in a relationship. Right? A small part of him wanted to kiss her regardless, a thought he needed to bury deep down below. It was bad enough that he had gotten them in deeper. She shifted awkwardly. “What should I wear?” she asked. “I mean, is this place fancy or more laid back?”

Of course that was information she would need. He should have considered that. “I guess it’s nice, a suit and tie kind of place.” The kind of place he never would have been able to afford growing up. Not something he wanted to remind himself of.

“Okay,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

She pulled the door open and left the office without a backward glance. Michael took a moment to take a deep breath, sure that he had only a moment to collect his thoughts before Lola was there to ask all her questions, but the clarity he craved would not come. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into now. It was like that stupid origami bird he’d left her all over again. Every time he had the chance to get away, he just kept digging the hole in was in deeper and deeper. How was he supposed to get out of this one?

***

Lincoln made his way slowly down the hall to the visitation room, the chains around his wrists and ankles clinking with every step. The circumstances that had led to this meeting weren’t ideal, but a part of him had to admit that he was excited to see his son. It had been a long time since LJ had come to see him, the last time when Michael had brought him and he’d said he didn’t want to come anymore. The memory still stung. As Lincoln walked, he tried to remind himself to keep his expectations low. Things with his son hadn’t been easy for a long time now. This visit was unlikely to go well. Suddenly Lincoln and the corrections officer leading him rounded the corner, and he found that his feelings were mixed. LJ Burrows was sitting on the other side of the barrier looking annoyed, his mother standing right next to him. It was clear that she was upset, but Lincoln wasn’t sure if that was because of him or not. It was usually him, but given the purpose of the visit, maybe not. “Lisa,” he said simply as he took a seat on the stool inside the segregation cage.

“Lincoln,” she replied, almost automatically. This was the first time they had come face to face in over a year. The awkwardness on both their parts was clear. “I need you to talk to him. I figured he could use some fatherly advice while...” She cut herself off suddenly.

“While it’s still around.”

She looked uncomfortable as he finished the thought for her. “Lincoln that’s not what I meant.”

“No,” he said, “Not your fault. It’s the truth, right?” Lincoln turned to his son, watching him carefully. “What happened?”

LJ rolled his eyes, his mother having to speak for him. “He got arrested.”

“Mom!” The boy looked between his parents disbelievingly.

“What? You did!” She turned back to Lincoln. “He and a friend of his got caught with two pounds of pot. He won’t listen to me, so maybe he’ll listen to you.” She looked between them for a moment. “I’m going to wait over there while you talk to your father.”

LJ glared at her as she left him alone. “There isn’t anything I have to talk to you about,” he said pointedly, not quite looking at his father.

The boy glared after her as she walked away. Lincoln watched her too, not sure what she thought he could say that she hadn’t already. “So using or selling?”

LJ glared through the barrier. “I don’t see why she drug me here.”

Lincoln tried not to let it get to him how much his son didn’t want to be speaking to him. “Maybe because I’m your father. Look, I know that this situation sucks.” LJ scoffed lightly. “I can’t change any of this, but at least we have a little time left. I know that you’re mad at me now, and you get to be, but in less than four months it’s not going to matter if you change your mind or not, if you want to see me or not. I’m going to be gone.”

“That’s not my problem.” LJ folded his arms over his chest as he glared off into the distance. Watching him made Lincoln question his belief that they had nothing in common, the sulking was classic teenage Lincoln.

“You’re angry; I get that.” Lincoln watched as his son rolled his eyes. “No, I do. You think I was any different when I was your age? I don’t want this for you. Is that what you want, to be on this side of the bars? Because that’s where you’re going to end up if you’re not careful. I can tell you from firsthand experience, that it’s not pretty. You can be pissed at me for the rest of your life if you want, but you have got to do better than you’ve been doing. You think that you’re getting back at me for all the ways that I hurt you by not being around, especially these last few years. But all this shit you’re doing now, it doesn’t hurt me. In a few months nothing’s going to hurt me anymore. The only person you’ll end up hurting in the end is yourself. I say that from personal experience too. Throwing your life away to piss off your father never ends well. And unlike me, you’re a smart kid, and you could do great things if you set your mind to it. But you’ve got to stop all of this now while you still have a chance. I know that you don’t owe me anything, but please turn out like Mike, instead of me. Don’t do it for me; do it for your mother. And be nicer to her while you’re at it; she doesn’t deserve all the shit you’ve been pulling. Okay? That woman already had to put up with me!” He sighed heavily. Why couldn’t things just be easy between the two of them?

LJ scowled. “She’s just overreacting. It was a little pot.”

The words actually drew a chuckle from him. “Sounds like it was a lot of pot actually.” But it wasn’t a funny matter, not really. “And they got that shit backwards anyway. If you’re lucky, they’ll try to scare you straight, force you to get your shit together. Because they can try you as an adult. You realize that, right? That much weed you’re looking at a lot of time. Years once you factor in all that mandatory minimum bullshit.” Lincoln shook his head. “I know that you don’t want my advice, but despite how it may appear to you, I’m actually an expert at what you’re going through.” At least that was enough to get LJ to look at him, even if it was only in disbelief. “I’ve been angry my whole life, and I know where that can lead you if you don’t learn how to focus your rage where it belongs.” He looked at his son for a long moment. “Look, I know that I’ve been a shit father, but I never had an old man around to teach me how to be one. That’s not really an excuse, I know, but I guess I just…. I’m trying here. This is the best I got. I was never good at the other stuff, but this I know.”

LJ sighed loudly and shifted in his seat. “That’s you advice? Don’t be angry?”

Was that what he was trying to say? Lincoln had never been good with words, never been good with his son either, come to think of it. He would have given anything to know exactly what was needed in this situation. No sudden inspiration came. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Be angry all you want, but don’t throw your life away because of me. That’s only going to hurt you and your mother and Uncle Mike. You need to learn how to use that anger for constructive means.”

“We done here?” LJ asked without looking at his father.

Lincoln thought that one over for a moment. It didn’t seem that making the boy stay would help him anymore at the moment. “Yeah, we’re done. But you have to come back next week.” That got his son attention. He glared at his father steadily. “And I’m not asking. I’m your father, and you’re going to come see me. You can be as sulky and rude as you want to be, but you’re going to come.”

LJ glared at his father for a long time before he finally had an excuse that might work. “I don’t know that Mom can bring me next week.”

Lincoln wasn’t willing to let him off the hook so easily. “Then you’ll come with your uncle. I’ll talk to your mom about it.”

“Why you got to do this?” his son asked with a cold stare.

Lincoln frowned through the grating, his thoughts hard to put in his words. “Because I’m you father, and I love you. I’d rather you be pissed off that I made you come here than have you one day regret you never come.” He paused to let those words sink in for both of them. “You want to leave, you can go for now, but I need to talk to Lisa about something first. Tell her that I’ll be quick.”

LJ got up without a word and walked over to where his mother was standing. The pair exchanged some words before she made her way over to where Lincoln was waiting. Lisa Rix sat in the seat her son had just vacated. Her unease was obvious, and Lincoln debated the words that he planned to say. “LJ said you needed to talk to me about something.”

Lincoln tried not to show how uncomfortable the subject he was about to broach made him. “Look, I told him that he has to come back next week. I’ll talk to Mike about it, so you don’t have to bring him. But I think it might help. I’m not going to be able to get through that hard head of his in a single visit.”

There was an amused look on her face as he spoke. “Yes. The resemblance is uncanny.” The scowl he shot her only made her chuckle a little more. “You know, I don’t mind bringing him,” she said with a shrug. “That boy doesn’t think so, because he knows absolutely everything, but one day he’s going to regret that he let you die without saying goodbye. He keeps saying that he doesn’t want to see you; he does. I know he does. It’s just hard for him to admit given the circumstances.”

Her words made him shift on the stool. This was not the conversation he wanted to be having with her. He glanced at his son standing in the corner looking annoyed. “I know. The only way he knows to communicate is to take his pain out on other people. No clue where he might have gotten that from,” he said with a sideways glance at his ex. “I can take whatever he has to give me. I don’t exactly deserve better than he’s willing to give anyway.” He paused, chewing over his words. “I appreciate that you’re willing to bring him out here though. I know you don’t do it for me but thanks all the same.”

It took her a moment before she got over looking shocked. “I don’t hate you Lincoln, and I certainly don’t want you to die. Not just for LJ’s sake either.”

He took that in a little disbelievingly but let the matter drop for the time being. Now was the point when he was supposed to say the words that had been on his mind, ask the question plaguing him. He cleared his throat. “The reason that I wanted to talk to you isn’t really about LJ though.” He shifted a little on the stool. “I know that I don’t really have the right to ask something of you, especially after everything, but I wrote you this letter.” It took a tremendous effort to not look away as he spoke. So far so good. If he could just keep it up, this might not end in total failure.

Lisa looked at him uncertainly. “Me?”

It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “Yeah. It’s complicated. I’ve been talking to the prison doc, you know, about everything I guess. She suggested that I tell you some things if I felt like I should get them off my chest. Said I should maybe put it in a letter. But I wasn’t sure if it was okay to send it to you.” He struggled to hold her gaze. “I don’t expect a response or anything. You don’t even have to read it now if you don’t want. Or ever. They were just things I wanted to say to you.” He sighed and shook his head. “I guess I just wanted to let you know, so if I sent it, if that was okay with you, that you’d know that you don’t have to open it unless you want. I’d respect it if you didn’t.”

Lisa looked taken aback by that. “What kind of things exactly?”

That was the question he’d been asking himself since he first sat down to write the damn thing. “Not bad things. At least I didn’t mean anything bad. It’s like amends, I guess. But I don’t want to assume that because I’m ready to make amends that you’re ready to forgive me.”

She took in her immediate surroundings for a second, her eyes not quite able to meet Lincoln’s gaze. “I don’t honestly. I mean, you can certainly send it me, but I don’t know if I can read it now.” To his shock she almost looked on the verge of tears.

“That’s fine,” he said carefully, trying very much to undo whatever he had done to upset her. “And I’ll never ask either way. We never need to talk about it.”

Lisa nodded absently. “I should go,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I’ll make sure that LJ comes next week, I promise. If I can’t bring him for some reason, I’ll make him come with your brother,” she said as she rose from the seat.

“Thanks,” Lincoln said as he watched her walk over to their son for a moment before the guard unlocked the cage to take him back to his cell. The sight of her sitting across from him on the verge of tears was bitter, a memory that was like so many others they had shared. Somehow in trying to do better, he had made things worse. If only that hadn’t been the overwhelming truth of his entire life.

***

Michael’s hand was on her back as they walked toward the table in the back that held a number of his coworkers, gathered together for some reason that had completely escaped him from the second she had opened the door. He had been dreading this dinner for weeks, ever since Lola had informed him it was mandatory. The fact that Sara had chosen to wear ‘the dress’ was not helping matters any. He had so many good memories of the last time he saw her in it and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places, the thought causing an uncomfortable tightening in his pants that it would be hours before he could tend to. And he had nothing but plans of attending to it as promptly as possible. It was a miracle they had even made it to dinner at all with the way he could only undress her with his eyes. Her ass swayed seductively as she walked a little bit ahead of him, the dress riding up a little like it had done as she’d climbed the stairs that night. His cock twitched. “You look nice tonight,” he whispered in her ear as they reached the table. “Did I forget to tell you that?”

The flesh on her back under where his hand rested was hot as he guided her into a chair in the corner. Reluctantly he pulled his hand away. Being in physical contact with her was proving to be beyond problematic. His mind kept straying to all the things he wanted to do to her and he needed to introduce her to everyone, a task he was barely able to perform. It was like running into her at her father’s dinner all those months ago; everything everyone was saying went right over his head at the thought of her beside him, turned slightly toward him so that he had the perfect view down the plunging neckline of her dress. The way her breasts jiggled as she moved made him suspect she’d chosen to go braless. The thought had his cock twitching again. All he found himself capable of was watching her interact with everyone effortlessly, his mind focused on much dirtier things than the conversation. She was born for this, the politician’s daughter. Another reminder that she shouldn’t be here with him but for a completely different reason than the ones she was always giving him in the morning light. The fact that he cared was troubling to say the least. It haunted his thoughts, the words being traded around the table washing over him but making no impact. The vast difference in their childhoods was the only thing he could consider until she reached down and gripped his knee beneath the table, squeezing gently. “You okay baby?” she whispered in his ear.

That brought for memories all its own, though he was sure she had meant it in a completely different context than during their early morning tryst over a month ago. “Fine,” he murmured back, conscious of the way Hannah was watching them from across the table. He shot his coworker a sheepish smile and placed a soft kiss beneath Sara’s ear. “Just distracted is all. I have many pleasant memories of that dress that make it hard to think of anything else.”

A soft flush on her cheeks was the only sign she had heard his words. She squeezed his knee gently one last time before pulling her hand away. The loss of contact bothered him, a coldness left in the wake of her concern for him. He would have done almost anything to have her hands on him again, the thought scary but no less true. Whatever he'd gotten them into in his office earlier that day did not seem so ready to fade into the background. At least it seemed they were nearing the end of dinner. Once they were alone surely things would go back to normal between them. Michael would see what that pretty dress of hers looked like on his bedroom floor and all other thought would be driven from his mind as he made her come all over his sheets. There were so many things he could think to do to her. He hadn’t gotten to bend her over his desk earlier like he wanted, but it occurred to him that his kitchen table could work just as well for the purpose. Hannah was across from her, in the process of trying to explain to Sara what her job at the company actually was, but all Michael could think of was the way she’d look bent over for him. If it wouldn’t be so conspicuous he’d take her to the bathroom now for a little repeat of their last outing together. Another time perhaps. Without considering it much Michael placed his hand on her thigh, just high enough for it to mean something. She jumped a little in surprise, and before she could comment he whispered in her ear. “You have to stay still or else they’ll know.”

He could see the puzzlement in Sara’s as his hand started to slip higher up her leg, creeping under her dress. Somehow she managed to keep her face neutral as her legs fell open for him a little to give him access to his goal. Her legs always parted for him like there was nothing else she wanted than for him to be there. He brushed his fingers against her pussy through her panties, giving her just enough friction to want more. “That must be fun,” she said to Hannah in what had to be her best controlled voice, but Michael suspected Sara had no clue what they were talking about anymore.

“You have no idea,” Hannah began, going into a long speech about the joys of being an architect that even Michael couldn’t find interesting at the moment.

The rest of her speech was lost on them both as Michael’s fingers pushed aside Sara’s underwear and slid a finger inside her. She was already a little wet, not quite dripping like he wanted her, but with a little work he would get her there in no time. It obviously took a tremendous effort for her to stay still, to keep from rocking on her fingers to drive them deeper. If she could be this good for him now, there was no telling what she was could be like once they got to his apartment. The thought gave him a little thrill as his thumb rubbed her clit. He knew he wasn’t going nearly fast enough, but the teasing pace was better than actually getting caught.

Sara nodded at whatever Hannah was saying, possibly no longer able to trust herself to speak. Michael hooked his fingers inside of her, rubbing gently just where she needed him. The fact that they were in public, at a table full of people was only working her up more. Her jaw clenched as her pussy clung to his fingers. “You must know what it’s like to follow your passion,” Hannah said.

“Yeah,” Sara just barely managed to get out, gripping her fork much harder than was necessary.

Hannah nodded and went on, the words going right over both their heads. He dug his thumb into her clit in fast circles like he knew she liked. Sara reached beneath the table subconsciously and pressed her hand to Michael’s holding it between her legs as she got off. It took more work than she thought herself capable of to stay silent as her orgasm hit. The way her jaw clenched to silence all proof of her pleasure was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. As much as he loved to hear her moan, the idea that he had given her pleasure in front of everyone was exciting. They needed to go soon before he proved himself to be even more reckless. He did have to work with these people after all. Hannah especially. “To be continued,” he whispered in Sara’s ear. He squeezed her thigh playfully, the fingers still wet with her juices digging into her flesh, a little reminder how much she had enjoyed what they had just done. She shivered slightly as she excused herself from the table. He smiled to himself as he thought of her in the bathroom trying to collect herself. The end of this dinner couldn’t come fast enough. The only thing distracting him from all the fun he planned for them to have was the sudden worry that he had forgotten to lock to door to his office when he went home at lunch.

***

Sara couldn’t put her finger on why she was suddenly nervous as she waited for him to unlock the door to his apartment. Maybe it was the trepidation of what was to come. Her panties were still soaked from him fingering her at dinner. But she followed him through the door as it swung open without faltering. If there was one thing she was sure of as she looked around, it was that this place had never known the meaning of the word messy. Everything clearly had a place, a level of organization she had never been able to master. “Well, you’re a fast cleaner,” she teased in an effort to defuse the tension.

He glanced at her awkwardly. “It wasn’t that kind of mess. Just a project I’ve been working on, but now I’m wondering if there might be another way to go about it.” That was all he seemed willing to offer at the moment as he led the way past the entry way. “Can I get you something? Water?”

“I’m fine for the moment,” she said, looking around some more. “Nice place.” She’d only ever seen this building from the street before this. It was the kind of place her father would have liked to set her up in.

“Thanks.” There was a long moment of silence before he gave her a playful look. “You want to see the couch? Make sure we haven’t hurt its feelings?”

She laughed at that and let him lead the way into the apartment properly. Her footsteps echoed around the room as she walked, heels clicking against the wood floors. Dinner had been nice. She was used to being drug along to work functions that usually seemed to last forever, but she had actually had a good time. A great time by the end of it. Being surrounded by all his coworkers helped to push her uncertainty about this arrangement from her mind, but now they were alone again it took some effort to push the reasons this was a bad idea out of her head. Somehow she managed. “So what exactly are your intentions Mr. Scofield?” she teased as they rounded the corner into the living room.

He took a step toward her, a hand coming up to cup her face. There was a wild look in his eyes that excited her. “Right now?” he asked teasingly. She nodded as his thumb rubbed along her lower lip. “Right now I want to see this pretty little mouth of yours around my cock.” His voice was firm, no room for her to argue.

The confession got a small little squeak of surprise out of her, but it wasn’t a request she wanted to refuse. More times than she could count she had thought about this. She held his gaze, her hands already hard at work on his belt. Within moments she was down on her knees in front of him with no regard to how uncomfortable the floor was beneath her. All she could think about was how much she wanted to suck him off. The soft groan he gave as her tongue flicked out to lick up the beads of precome leaking out of his tip only spurred her on. She looked up at him, wanting so much to have pleased him. Her lips wrapped around his tip as their eyes met; she suckled gently, more drops of precome leaking onto her tongue. His fingers wound into her hair but didn’t push, letting her set the pace. She slid her mouth along his cock, regretting that she couldn’t fit more of him as he hit the back of her throat. It was still better having him in her mouth than she ever could have imagined. She swallowed around him shallowly at first, his fingers tightened in her hair. The slight pull was enough to make her moan, the sound muffled around him. She kept him deep, swallowing once, twice, three times, eliciting more pulling. It was something else to add to the list of things he’d shown her that she wanted a man to do to her. He had always been so good to her, the list already growing out of control even in their few encounters together. Another favor for her to repay. So, so much to repay.

With a final swallow for the time being she slid back up his cock to focus some more attention on the head, reaching out to stroke the rest firmly. Quiet groans were falling from his lips in time with the way her tongue circled around the tip. Each slow lick along his slit was maddening, and she loved the way he tasted on her tongue. Every time she ran her tongue across him it came away wet, evidence she was taking care of him properly. What she wouldn’t give to pull his release from him just like this, tongue along his tip, hand twisting along the shaft, but the groan of frustration he gave had her dying to dive back in again. She wrapped her lips around his cock, pulling her cheeks close together to make the drag tight as she eased her way down until he was cocooned in her throat once more. The first little swallow massaged his tip in the best way if the look on his face was any indication. He was just unclenching his jaw when another swallow followed. It was remarkable how long she was able to hold her breath as she swallowed over and over again, making him groan loudly. Even as she pulled back to lick along his shaft her breathing was measured. It was taking a great effort on her part to go slow, take her time. All she wanted as she slid her mouth around his cock again was to take care of him, to give him the best blowjob that she could. Her eyes flicked back up to look at his face as her mouth slid up and down his shaft. He was watching her intently, paying careful attention to how her lips stretched around him. A hand came down to cup her face as the tip of his cock pressed against her cheek. They kept eye contact like that for a long time. She was very careful to hold his gaze as she let him into her throat again. His jaw clenched as she swallowed hard. She wanted to hear him moan, to taste him as he came. The way he shuttered against her tongue told her he was getting close, and just the thought of it had her clenching her thighs together for some kind of relief. His fingers pulled her hair a little as her hand began to massage his balls gently. “Sara,” he groaned, the warning clear in his voice. One last swallow, and he grunted softly as he came down her throat. She pulled back a little so it would be easier to swallow all he gave her. The taste of him was salty, but she loved it, wanted to taste him again already.

Sara had never felt so wet in her life as she pulled away from his cock. Her panties were completely soaked through even though he hadn’t so much as touched her. He struggled to catch his breath as he pulled her up off the floor. “Shit,” he said breathlessly.

She wondered for a second if it was okay to kiss him before he was pulling her face against his own. The kiss was brief, but it left her speechless for a moment. “Not exactly how I imagined the night to end,” she said at last.

A soft chuckle fell from his lips. “Who said anything about the night coming to an end?” He reached beneath her dress and ran a hand along the wet spot she had been steadily adding to in her panties. His head dipped down to whisper in her ear. “And what’s gotten you so worked up?” She moaned softly. “You liked that, huh? You got off on it, having my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes,” she whispered, the word barely audible. She knew she had to be blushing but couldn’t find it in herself to care.

He was chuckling again, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “That’s good because now you’re going to be a good little girl and wrap your lips around me again until I’m nice and hard for you.”

The words only made her wetter. He pushed her panties down her legs, leaving her bare but made no move to unzip her dress. Instead he took his hand away from her, slowly undressing himself until he stood naked in front of her. She felt her juices leaking down her thighs as he led her over to the couch. There was a moment of uncertainty where she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to proceed. Was she supposed to strip in front of him too or just get back on her knees? She looked at him, sitting on the couch with his legs spread to give her room to work and couldn’t wait anymore. A part of her just knew what he wanted, her lips on his dick now, not in a few moments. “That’s my good girl,” he said as she got down on the floor between his legs. A hand stroked her hair gently.

The praise made her feel hot all over. She’d never had someone be like this with her. It was hard to meet his eyes as she leaned forward to run her tongue along his flaccid cock. The muscles in his legs tensed as she made contact. It was obviously still really sensitive, but the quick glance she managed to shoot him showed pleasure on his face. She filed that away for later. He gave a sharp hiss as her tongue ran along his slit, gathering up the last of his come. “That feels so good sweetheart,” he said, continuing to stroke her hair gently.

She moaned softly as her lips wrapped around his tip, sucking gently at first as her mouth slid down his shaft. Even soft she couldn’t fit all of him into her mouth, but she swallowed what she could. His cock jerked a little against her tongue each time the muscles in her throat constricted around him. In the morning she would be able to feel this for sure, and the thought had her moaning around his dick again. The scratchy sound that would be her voice after this was practically audible already. Her lips slid up and down his shaft slowly. The feel of him starting to fatten up on her tongue was like nothing she had ever encountered before. This was something they would have to do again some time. Trying to get a better angle she pressed herself deeper between his legs, reaching down to cup his balls again. “Yeah, just like that,” he told her.

As she massaged his balls gently she swallowed deeply around him. In the moment she was torn between wanting to make him come in her mouth again or between her thighs. The thought of either had her dripping down her thighs. His precome leaked into the back of her throat, and she knew that he was starting to get properly hard in her mouth. She didn’t want to stop yet; what she wanted was to stay down there getting him all worked up for forever. There was something about knowing for sure that she was the one who was making him hard. “So good for me,” he said as she pulled back to suckle his tip again. She had trouble looking directly at him as he spoke; her eyes kept darting away the second she caught glimpses of his face. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

A drawer slid open just at the edge of her vision, and she saw him pull out a condom. “You still my good little girl?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer he handed her the foil packet. “I want you to put that on me using that talented mouth of yours.”

Reluctantly she pulled away from his tip to open the wrapper. She had never done this before, so it took her a moment to get the logistics down before she managed to find a way to roll the condom onto his cock using her lips. It didn’t taste great, but somehow she hardly noticed as she took as much of him into her mouth as she could and swallowed hard, using her fingers to roll the condom down the rest of the way. “Come here,” he groaned.

Sara didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled onto his lap, anticipation already making her pussy flutter. A small contented sigh passed her lips as her dripping folds brushed against his cock. This was what she had wanted the whole time they were at dinner. She reached back and pulled the zipper of her dress down until it was undone enough for her to yank the fabric over her head. There was a soft thud as the dress was flung away without a thought. He gave an appreciative hum as her breasts spilled out, and his thumb came to run along a mark near one of her nipples that was almost completely faded. “Looks like I’ll have to redo this one,” he whispered to her.

She groaned softly. His lips on her breasts had been one of the best parts of the last time they had done this. Just the thought of him doing it again had her rubbing herself against him again. “You want me inside of you?” he asked softly.

“Please.” Even though she knew that the stretch would be intense, she couldn’t wait any longer.

His fingers brushed her hair from her face as he leaned forward and kissed her deeply for a moment. “Turn around for me,” Michael said, lifting her hips off of him.

Though she wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, she allowed herself to be maneuvered around until her back was to her chest, her legs beneath her on either side of his hips. “There’s my good girl,” he whispered into her skin.

The sigh she gave at his words was barely audible. All she wanted was to be good for him like he wanted as he pushed her forward a little so he could line himself up. The stretch had never been like this before, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. She was glad that she was facing away so he couldn’t see. It took a lot effort to hold in her groan as his cock stretched her open. She’d definitely feel that in the morning too. “Fuck you’re tight,” he groaned against her back.

She hummed softly, happy that she was pleasing him. It felt so good to have him back inside of her even with the slight sting. His hands wrapped around her hips and drug her down, grunting as he bottomed out. There wasn’t much time for her to adjust before he was helping her roll her hips against his own. She moaned softly as he drilled himself deep inside her. The grip on her hips was tight, surely leaving marks she’d enjoy staring at in the morning. As she rode him, she couldn’t remember why she had ever thought this was a bad idea. He belonged inside her. “Please baby,” she whimpered though she didn’t know what she was begging him for.

Michael pulled her back against him, pushing his cock deep as she leaned onto his chest. The new angle was driving them both insane, his cock hitting her g-spot just right. He reached between her legs and brushed his fingers through her folds. “So wet for me. Are you going to come around my cock?” She nodded against his shoulder. “I want you to say it.”

She was dizzy with the drag of him inside of her. “I’m going to come around your cock,” she said breathlessly.

His fingers rubbed her clit as a reward, and her pussy clenched around him hard. “Are you going to stop trying to fight this?” he whispered in her ear. “Be good for me, admit that you can’t live without this?”

She was so close, right on the edge. “I need this,” she panted. “No one makes me feel like this. Please baby, let me take care of you. I’ll be good; I promise.”

The rhythm on her clit changed, his fingers pushing her over the edge. She struggled to catch her breath as he sped up the thrusting of his hips, giving her no time to rest. Even when she dug her fingernails into his arm, he only eased up a little on her clit. “I don’t know if I can get off again,” she groaned. He chuckled into her skin as he started to kiss along her shoulder blade again. Even as she spoke, she knew that another orgasm was building. “Please Michael,” she moaned, her walls convulsing around his cock.

His lips wrapped around her ear, worrying it between his teeth. It was all too much for her, and she needed him to come soon. Every cell in her body ached for a break as his cock continued to drill into her. He increased his grip on her hips, pulling the two of them together with a grunt. “Shit!” he said as his hips lost their rhythm.

He kept his arms around her waist, keeping her in place on his softening cock for a little while. They were both panting loudly. Eventually Sara had to crawl off his lap to ease the aching in her hips. As she collapsed onto the couch beside him she was reminded of the last time they were together. She had regretted her decision to kick him out the second he’d put his clothes back on and left. Now she was naked on his couch having gotten off twice. Clearly she was not able to stay away from him. “That was…” She found that she wasn’t able to finish that sentence.

He leaned down and kissed her knee. “There’s more where that came from. I don’t intend to let you get much sleep tonight.”

The thought was both scary and thrilling at the same time. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to walk in the morning if he fucked her again, but at least it would be for a worthwhile cause. “You got a bed in this place?”

He chuckled softly. “Already?” he teased.

“No. I think that I might need a nap before we get back to work.”

“Come on,” he said, rising from the couch and holding out a hand to her. He led the way through the rest of the apartment to his bedroom. He disappeared through another door without a word as she climbed onto his bed. Every part of her ached in the best way. She sighed softly, curling up with her face away from the door, exhaustion already taking hold. When he came back a minute later he stopped to look at her in the doorway. “I’m not sure that I have it in me to let you nap,” he told her teasingly. “I want to taste you.” She shot him a curious look over her shoulder. “Fair’s fair after all.” He walked over to her slowly, the look in his eyes dark.

She laughed lightly as he climb onto the bed, her legs falling open for him easily. Any thoughts she had that he might be joking quickly dissipated as he licked through her folds. “Shit,” she groaned. It felt so good, but she wasn’t sure that her pussy had anything left to give. Her hand ran over the bristles of hair covering his scalp and groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But it would be a sweet death at least.

The only comment he seemed to want to add to that was sucking her clit into his mouth. She moaned loudly beneath him, gripping the blanket that covered his bed. It took a surprisingly short amount of time for him to have her on the edge again. One good suck of her clit had her coming all over his face.

He barely waited for her to ride out the aftershocks of her orgasm before he crawled up her body and kissed her softly. She groaned as she tasted herself on his tongue. After a moment he pulled away from her and rested his forehead against her own. He was clearly tired too, but as their bodies brushed against each other she felt his hard cock against her hip and groaned. “You really are going to be the death of me,” she muttered teasingly. The thought of his inside of her again was tempting though. She didn’t need to be able to be able to walk in the morning anyway.

***

There was something different about the doc as she waited for the officer to double check the shackles. At the very least she was impatient, but Lincoln thought he sensed something else beneath the surface that she was working hard to hide, full of a nervous energy he hadn’t seen on her before. “You okay Doc?” he asked, looking around the guard to where she stood.

“I’m fine. How are you Lincoln?” She gave him a little smile that seemed genuine, but he still wasn’t sure how much he trusted her.

The thought of her leaving and not coming back was bitter still. Her claims that it wasn’t her fault still seemed unbelievable. Why would she care to see him anyway? More likely she just had better things to do than come and deal with him. Pushing the thought from his mind he shrugged, rattling the chains in the process and making the guard that was working to check they were on properly scowl. “I saw my kid last week.”

She looked surprised but didn’t have the chance to comment before the officer was turning to talk to her. “The shackles appear secure ma’am, but I would suggest keeping your distance all the same.”

Lincoln rolled his eyes, but the observation seemed to amuse her. “Sure thing,” she said. “Won’t be an issue to give him a physical at all.” The guard clearly didn’t appreciate the joke and left the cell without a word. She turned to watch him go, an odd look on her face that was hard to place. Was she sorry to see him go? That thought was bitter too.

“I appreciate you agreed to squeeze me in,” Lincoln said once they were alone. The sight of her back again was not something he had expected to see any time soon, but he found himself glad to see her all the same.

“Not a problem,” she said, walking over to sit on the bed beside him. Her hands dug in the bag she’d brought, eyes cast away from him.

He tried to come up with a way to start a conversation. So unsure that he could believe her when she’d left the last time, he hadn’t given this meeting much thought in the last week. But she was here now, and he didn’t want her to leave again so soon. “I just know how busy you are,” he said as a way to try and make up for being kind of rude to her last time. She was trying after all. Maybe he should be trying too. He looked over at her, just barely catching the pensive expression on her face as she pulled out her stethoscope. “Is everything alright?” he asked, the concern noticeable in his voice. When had he cared how she was? That wasn’t supposed to be a component of their relationship.

She was quick to change the subject. “How was seeing LJ? I know he hasn’t come in a while.”

Lincoln shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “It was good, I guess. He got into a little trouble, and Lisa hoped I might be able to straighten him out. That’s how desperate she was.” He hoped that as the last bit came out of his mouth that it sounded like a joke, but it was difficult to read her expression as Sara worked on taking his vitals as he spoke. “Anyway, what’s got you all nervous and twitchy today?”

“Nervous and twitchy?” The words came out disbelieving, a soft laugh passing her lips.

He chuckled lightly. “I’m just making an observation here.”

She chose not to respond to that, preparing instead to focus on holding the stethoscope to his back. “Take a big deep breath for me.”

It was always a little uncomfortable when she got this close to him. He never knew how he was supposed to react. Carefully Lincoln complied with her request, vividly aware of just how near she was to him. He worked hard to remain still, eyes forward while she crowded into his bubble, but the second she pulled away some he glanced at her. There was discomfort radiating off of her as she threw the stethoscope back into her bag. To his memory he had never made her quite so uncomfortable before. Had he done or said something that had brought this on? That wasn’t how he wanted this to go. “Doc,” he began, ready to try and correct whatever he had done now, but before he could get the words out she pushed her hair off her face, momentarily revealing a noticeable purple mark just below her right ear. “Nice hickey,” he finished instead with a small laugh. The look in her eyes was panicked as she looked back at him, her hair falling to cover the mark in the process. “Good to see that you finally got around to getting a boyfriend,” he continued to tease.

Sara got off the bed and took her usual seat at that, only making him laugh more. “We’re not here to talk about me,” she informed him, a stern look on her face.

“But you acknowledge that there is something going on with you.” He surveyed her carefully. “It’s not bad, whatever it is, but it makes you nervous.” He leaned forward a little and assumed a mock hurt tone. “Wait! You haven’t been talking to another death row inmate have you? Because I don’t know that I could handle that kind of betrayal.”

Sara scoffed. “There is nothing to talk about.”

The mark on her neck popped into his mind. Was she uncomfortable that he knew she had slept with someone? Why would he care about that? If he couldn’t get any, someone else should. Still, he couldn’t help but tease her more. “So it does involve a boy. The one who left you with the souvenir I’m guessing. Would I like this boy?” That got him a strange look that he wasn’t sure he understood. “Was he at least a gentleman? At least a little bit? If not, I can have a word with him for you. It’s okay, you can tell me. Who am I going to confess your deep dark secrets to, Michael?” There was that odd look again. He watched her carefully, the way she worked so hard to keep herself under control.

After a long struggle she cleared her throat. “But back to the topic at hand. You said that LJ was in trouble. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lincoln sighed pointedly, just to make sure and let her know that he was not going to forget his line of questioning so easily. “He and a friend of his got caught with two pounds of pot. Purely for recreational use I’m sure.” Sara laughed at that. “Lisa thought maybe I might be able to convince the kid that that wasn’t a path he wanted to go down.”

“Did you?” She opened the notebook that sat closed on her lap and flipped to a blank page, ever prepared to record every little detail he chose to give her. 

He shrugged. “Probably not. I wasn’t much of a listener myself at that age, and I’m not exactly father of the year. Tends to damage my credibility on some things. I told him he has to come back though. We’ll see if that happens this week or not. Maybe if I say it enough, he’ll get the point eventually.”

She nodded, already scribbling away. “I’m sure that’s hard, not being able to be there for him like you’d like to be. Do you think that coming back will help him?”

That was a difficult question to answer. At the time he had suggested it, making him come back was the answer, but now he wasn’t so sure that he hadn’t made the problem worse. “I don’t know, but I’ve got to try. Right? He’s a smart kid; you’d think he’d be able to see that he’s on the verge of going down a dark path. Usually Mike can get him to see sense when I can’t, so maybe I should get him to talk to LJ.”

That seemed to give her pause, the first time since they had begun this conversation that her pen stopped scratching across the page. “Has your brother always been the one that LJ turns to for stuff like that?”

“I guess,” Lincoln said with a shrug, the pain in his gut at this line of questioning was not easy to ignore. He had always wanted to be better than Aldo had been, but more and more he was wondering if by sticking around he’d just made things worse for his son. “I’ve never been the best father, and Michael has had to step up sometimes, do all the things I couldn’t do. I’ve not been the best brother either, I guess. You know? I’m supposed to take care of both of them, and I’ve never gotten the mastery of it. I just wish I could do it all differently.” He paused for a moment, the words bitter on his tongue. “When I’m gone all they’ll have left is each other. I guess that’s kind of true already. This isn’t what I wanted for them, watching me die. Do you ever look back at your choices and it seems like it was someone other than you that did all those things?”

She was silent for so long that he was sure that he had crossed the line. Her eyes wouldn’t quite meet his own, and she was fiddling with her pen like she was prone to do when her mind was racing too fast to know what to say to him. He held his breath, ready for the telling off that was sure to come. Her voice was soft as she spoke, reflective. “I guess I’ve had my moments. Who hasn’t done something that they want to take back at some point in their lives? No one wants to live with regrets.” There was so much that she was holding back from telling him, that much was clear. What he wouldn’t do for a look inside her mind as she looked down at the notebook balanced on her lap the pensive look from earlier back in full force. “What do you want for them, Michael and LJ? If you could have anything at all, what would it be?”

That was a hard one to answer. The deeper they had gotten into this, the harder and harder it got for Lincoln to know what he was supposed to say to all her questions. “I guess I want LJ to get his shit together and go to college, have a good life. He could be anything he set his mind to, but I’m afraid that he doesn’t realize that, that he won’t realize it until it’s too late. And I want Michael to be happy, not be alone. He’s worked so hard his whole life that he lives in this bubble, no one really knows him. Partly that’s by design, I suppose. He was so sick when we were kids, so overwhelmed by everything that it was easiest to isolate himself, to keep the world at a distance, but now he can manage so much better. But I guess those walls he put up around himself are comfortable. It’s easier to keep them up than let someone in, really in. I don’t that that for him though. I want him to meet someone. I’m sure that I’m biased, but he deserves someone good. Someone who will love him.” He took in the strange look that crossed her face for a moment before she mastered her expression and filed it away for later. “I might as well be asking for the moon on that one though. Michael doesn’t let people in if he can help it. I mean, I get it; holding people at a distance is probably the one thing my brother and I have in common. He’s been abandoned his whole life. Now I’m about to abandon him too.” He shook his head, the heaviness in his heart unexpected. There was this fear that maybe he’d said too much, or not enough, made his brother seem like a bad person. He made an effort to try and explain. “Don’t get me wrong, once you’re in, there is nothing that man wouldn’t do for you, but getting past that initial layer of ice can be daunting.”

Sara was writing as he talked, and there was something about her demeanor that took her long to respond. “Have you ever talked to your son about this?”

Lincoln shrugged, her omission of his brother noticeable. For now he ignored it. “What exactly am I supposed to say? I told him that line you had about me never having an old man of my own, but that didn’t really go over well. So what else could I say to him?”

She gave a long sigh. “I guess that’s a question that you’ve got to ask yourself.”

He could tell that her heart wasn’t in it today. The more they talked, the more upset she seemed. “Is something wrong?” he asked seriously. As much as the next words stung, he felt they needed to be said. “If you need to go, I get that. I know that you’ve got more important things to worry about than just listening to me talk.” He watched her carefully, waiting for her to agree with him.

There was a pained expression on her face. “Lincoln,” she said slowly, “I have some things on my mind, that’s true, but that doesn’t have anything to do with this. I can keep my personal and professional lives separate.” That last bit sounded like she was trying to repeat it to herself as a reminder more than saying it to him, something she’d been saying over and over hoping it’d stick.

“You want to talk about it?” The question was well over the line, but he asked it all the same.

Whatever she was trying not to say was written all over her face, but he didn’t know her well enough to read her thoughts just yet. When she spoke it was clear that she was choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think that we should be discussing my personal life. I appreciate that you are concerned, but I think that we should keep this strictly professional.”

He nodded. “I can try to respect that. I make no promises though. I’m not very good with rules. Hard to believe, I know.” He shot her a cocky smile, hoping that she would relax a little.

She smiled weakly at that. “Is there anything else that you’d like to discuss, other than me?”

The words hung in the air for a long time before he was ready to answer. “I took your advice about Lisa.” He had told her that last time, but that had been in anger. “I wrote her that letter you suggested, not anything spectacular or anything, but I told her all the things I wasn’t able to say in the past. Things about how I should have been better to her, a better father to LJ. I even mailed it. Didn’t think I would, but I did. I told her that she doesn’t have to read though. Does that counteract that I sent it?”

The doc ignored the question, asking one of her own instead. “Do you want her to read it?”

Lincoln shifted uncomfortably on the bed for a moment. “I guess I do. But I don’t at the same time. That probably doesn’t make any sense. Either you want something or you don’t. I almost didn’t send it even after she said I could. I guess once all the words were on the page, a part of me never wanted them to see the light of day. I’m betting that wasn’t your intention when you told me to make amends though.”

Her face was guarded. “I never meant that you had to send them. I just thought that it might help to get all the things off your chest that were bothering you. What you do with that afterwards is up to you.” There was an awkward pause that she seemed unsure how to fill. “Did it help?” she finally asked.

He shrugged. “We have a complicated history; I probably just made things worse.”

She sighed, clicking her pen open and closed a few times, barely masking her frustration. “That wasn’t the question. The exercise was supposed to be for you. Did it make you feel better to get all of that off your chest?” He was silent long enough that she felt the need to go on. “Look, I want to help you, but right now I’m at a bit of a loss as to what you need. I just gave this big speech to the DOC about how I was the best person to do this, but now I wonder if that is true. What do you need from me Lincoln? Other than someone to talk to. I’m not exactly an expert at this.” She paused, a worried look crossing her face as she sat in the verge of something uncomfortable. “I can recommend that they assign someone else to take my place if I’m not suppling the assistance that you need.”

His jaw clenched painfully. The last thing he wanted was to have to start over again. What was the point of her going to all that trouble to be allowed to continue seeing him, if that was what really had happened, if she was just going to abandon him again? “I see,” he said, trying his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

Her forehead was crinkled in thought. “I’m only thinking about what is best for you,” she said. “If I can’t fulfill the role that you need me to, then we should bring someone else in.”

Lincoln scowled heavily. Just when he thought that things were maybe getting back to normal, and she was proposing that he begin all over again with someone new. How was he supposed to explain things to her without her getting even angrier at him? He didn’t even know what he had done to upset her so much. “Can I be honest?” he asked.

Sara looked at him for a long time, the pen continuing to click open and closed while she considered the question. “I never knew you to need permission to say whatever you wanted,” she finally replied.

There was no real anger in her tone, but the response still gave him pause. “Look, I don’t know what I’ve done or said to upset you this time. You wanted me to talk, so I talk, and you get mad. So tell me what you want from me, so I can try to do that.”

The look she shot him was apologetic, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready to just forget that she was trying to abandon him. “If I gave you the impression that I was upset with you, I’m truly sorry Lincoln. That was never my intention.” She gave a big sigh and glanced around the cell anxiously. “All that I want, all I have ever wanted was to help you Lincoln. That is what I am trying to do now by suggesting that we bring in someone else who is actually trained to do this. I’m not a therapist.”

“I don’t need a therapist,” he shot back. “Why can’t I just talk to you?”

Sara fidgeted on the stool, the notebook almost falling out of her lap. Something weighed heavily on her as she considered the question. “If talking to me helps, then we can keep doing this. But if you need something more, something that I can’t give, you need to tell me.”

There was a plea in her eyes that he tried very hard to interpret. Was this some sort of test? Lincoln had never been good at those. Did she want him to say that she wasn’t enough, that he needed something she couldn’t give? The selfish part of him didn’t care. He wanted her to stay more than he had words to say. But he couldn’t make her stick around. “If you don’t want to listen to me anymore, you should just go,” he said. There was definite hurt beneath the words, but it would be better in the long run to have her go now instead of torturing herself by sticking around.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go.” The words came out soft but certain. “I told you, my only concern is you.”

Something told him that there was more that she wasn’t saying, a secret that plagued her thoughts. But it wasn’t his place to ask; she had made that clear. So he merely nodded and waited for them to begin again.

***

Katie was in her office, waiting, when Sara finally made it back to the infirmary. She was so exhausted that she collapsed into her desk chair without so much as acknowledging her friend’s presence. “You look like I feel,” the nurse said with a small laugh.

Sara let out a groan. “I was up late,” she muttered. The memory of what she had been doing was at the forefront of her mind as she leaned back into the chair and sighed. She and Michael really needed to make a rule about getting together on school nights. Or at least agree to let each other sleep occasionally. Another tired sigh fell from her lips. “How can I help you?” she asked Katie with a bleary glance. The nurse gave her another bemused smile and set a thick file on the desk. Sara didn’t need to even look at it to know who the file belonged to. “What is the story this time?”

Katie gave a quick glance at the file, her unease obvious. “They want to reintegrate him into gen pop.”

That answer took Sara by surprise. “Haywire?” she asked. “The guards want to do what?”

Katie shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. You’ve got to admit that it’s been awhile since he fought with the others. Maybe the new meds are working correctly. If they are, there is no reason to keep him in psych.”

Sara snorted. “Until he stops taking them and tries to kill his latest cellmate.” She had always been one to believe that help was possible, but this was one inmate that even she couldn’t find it in herself to have any faith that he could change. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but his refusal to take his meds was a constant problem that only added to the risks his mental state posed for everyone around him. “I’m assuming that this isn’t a request.”

Katie shook her head. “The orderlies in psych are waiting anxiously for you to sign the form, so he can be transferred.”

Sara groaned again and sat up properly in her chair. She knew that this wasn’t something that she could get out of. Normally she was fully supportive of the warden’s methods of rehabilitation over punishment, but they had tried to put this particular inmate back in gen pop before. It never ended well. “I expect the guards to actually watch him take his meds. He’ll just cough them back up again once they’re gone, but at least we can say that we did everything we could.” She signed the form sitting on top of the file and handed it all back to Katie. “I just hope this time his new cellmate doesn’t try to use his toothpaste.”

Her friend chuckled softly. “Is that what happened last time?”

Sara shrugged. “That’s what he claimed, but it’s Haywire.” She lend back in her seat, wanting more than anything to take a nap. Though she knew that it was hours yet before that would be possible. “Is there anything else?” Even she could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

The look Katie was giving her oozed concern. “Is everything okay with you?” she asked carefully. Ever since Sara had finally confessed to her past issues with drugs, the nurse had been treading carefully.

“I’m fine,” Sara lied quickly. She was decidedly not fine, but that was not a conversation that she could have with her friend. As much as she wanted to confide in her about what was happening, the words would not come. But this time she would have to tell Katie something if she wanted the conversation to end. “Like I said, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Or the night before for that matter.” In fact it had been the better part of a week since she had gotten a proper night’s rest. It had been worth it at the time, but the lack of sleep was starting to wear on her. “I’m just worn out.”

The concern was still etched on her friend’s face. “Is there something you need to talk about?” Katie asked. She was quick to add, “I’m only asking, not trying to imply anything. Just that if you needed to talk to someone, I am here and will not judge whatever you have to say.”

“I appreciate that,” Sara said. That much was true at least. “But it isn’t anything like that. I’ve just been…” She struggled for a second for a good enough reason to explain her tiredness. As always her mind went immediately to Michael. It was worrisome how her thoughts went to him so easily without much prompting at all. But surely this time it was just the subject matter. After all, he was the cause of her current distress. And he was also a convenient excuse that her friend would likely believe. “I’ve been seeing someone,” she finally supplied. “It’s not that serious, which is why I haven’t said anything up until now.”

Katie raised an eyebrow in surprise. “And he’s the reason that you’re so worn out?” she asked skeptically.

Sara laughed to herself. “Well, we’ve been sleeping together pretty seriously. And not getting much actual sleep.” She laughed again at the amused expression on her friend’s face. “So, you see? Just fine.”

Katie shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” But she sounded happy as she said it. “Good for you,” she added after a moment. “Just remember to emerge from the bedroom at some point, Get to know the guy.”

But that was the problem, Sara was getting to know him in ways that she didn’t plan, ways that made it difficult to look at him the same. All the things Lincoln had told her about his brother swirled around in her brain. Hearing him mentioned so casually had been jarring, and she had barely kept herself in check. She had so many questions now, things she wanted to know about him. It would have been effortless to get Lincoln talking about him. But Michael wasn’t the reason she was there. It was her job to help Lincoln, not Michael. Still the questions remained. Like, what had Lincoln meant about Michael being sick as a kid? What kind of sick? Was he better now? She hadn’t noticed anything that looked like he was, not that she could recall, but the way Lincoln spoke about it almost sounded like that was still the case. She found herself going over all the moments she had spent with him, hoping to get some form of clarity. Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by Katie waving a hand in front of her face. “Sorry,” Sara said, “I spaced for a minute.”

The nurse chuckled to herself, shaking her head good naturedly. “Don’t tell me you’re over there reliving your recent escapades. Can’t you at least wait until after you get off work?”

The comment froze Sara in her tracks. If only she was thinking about Michael Scofield naked. Those thoughts she could explain to herself. But worrying about him? That wasn’t a part of the deal. She shook her head. “No, just tired. Maybe I’ll head out early.”

Katie grinned at that. “I think I like this guy already. He’s clearly a good influence on you.” The nurse rose from her seat on the edge of the desk. “I’m going to take this over to psych, and I expect to see you gone by the time I come back,” she said playfully. And for once going home was not something that Sara wanted to refuse.

***

Michael went to check the office door again, just to make sure that it was locked one more time. Just like the last few times, the doorknob refused to turn. For the briefest millisecond he breathed a sigh of relief. Why hadn’t he just gone over to her place after he’d called? It would have been so much less stressful, and Sara had sounded so sleepy on the phone, even said she was already in bed. Instead he had insisted that she come to his place. He had no idea why he had done so now that they were no longer on the phone. The only thing that came to mind was the image of her curled up beside him that first morning after he’d brought her home. She had rolled half onto her back in the night, coming to rest against his chest, the sheets slipping down enough to reveal one of her breasts. He had lain there and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest for what seemed like an eternity, the look on her face so at peace that all the answers of the universe seemed written there. Never before had the sight of a woman asleep in his bed ever stopped his heart quite like that. He hadn’t know how to describe the feeling, so he pushed it away for the time being. Later when she had woken up he fingered her lazily, bringing her to orgasm four times before she finally pushed his hand away and swallowed his cock. He wanted to wake up like that every morning, another thought he was careful not to focus on too clearly. What he did know was that he didn’t just want to get her back in bed after a near twenty-four hours away from her, he wanted her in his bed, wanted her come all over his sheets, wanted to wake up to her curled around him naked and make her come all over again. It had been all he had been able to think about all day long while he was struggling through work.

He considered going to check the door again, just to make sure it was locked one more time, but the sound of the buzzer interrupted his thoughts, leading him to shuffle to the door to admit her into his apartment. As the door swung open to reveal her it was clear that she was exhausted. For the briefest moment Michael felt bad about dragging her out of bed. He stepped aside to let her in from the hallway, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to another as he tried to think how to explain himself if she demanded such, but she asked for no explanations as she turned to smile at him. “I missed you,” she teased. “What has it been, a whole day?’ It hadn’t even been that long since they parted near two in the morning. He couldn’t help himself from leaning forward to kiss her then. The softest groan fell from her lips as they kissed. But her lips were only against his for a moment before she was stepping out of his grasp. “Now, now, is that the only reason why you asked me to come over?”

With any other woman he would have been afraid for a moment that he had upset her, but Sara’s tone was still light as she worked to unwrap herself from all the layers she had thrown on to protect herself from the cold. He had to hold in the wince he wanted to give as first her scarf and then her coat hit the floor. The sight of the mess, even a slight one, on his living room floor was almost too distracting to focus on anything else, but with a deep breath he managed to ignore it. She would run off to the bathroom eventually, and he would be able to pick the clothes up eventually. He was still fighting the urge to not bend and grab her coat and scarf when she stepped back into his embrace. It was obvious that she had gotten dressed in a hurry, just thrown on a pair of pants, shoes, and grabbed her coat. As her chest pressed against his chest, he could feel her breasts free beneath her t-shirt. She leaned up slightly, pulling him back into a kiss that was much deeper than the first. Just the feel of her against him eased the tension in him bones. The loss of her warmth against him a few minutes later was noticeable. The second he no longer had her against him the worry about the mess came back. It was always so much harder to ignore things when he was tired. But he wasn’t going to worry about it. He wasn’t. “I’m glad that you came over,” he said, bending over to pick up her things involuntarily. When he rose with her coat and scarf in his hands she was watching him carefully, an inquisitive look in her eyes. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “I apologize. It’s not my apartment, and I just went and threw my things on the floor.” Her eyes scanned their immediate surroundings. “You clearly have a much more traditional idea of what the word clean means than I do. I promise to try and remember in the future.” There was an amused smile on her face, but the look in her eyes remained, like she was a researcher collecting data on an interesting topic.

Michael got the impression that he was the topic she found interesting. It was clear that his actions had told her something significant. Suddenly his inability to ignore her coat lying on the floor meant so much more than it usually would. He really hadn’t meant to be weird in front of her, hadn’t meant to let her see that part of him, not yet, not ever. Now all he could do was stand there like a moron clutching her things. Should he give them back to her so she could leave? Also involuntarily, he held them out to her. She took them uncertainly, glancing around. “Where would you like me to put them?” she asked.

Of all the questions he imagined she would have for him, that one did not make the list. “Oh,” he murmured to himself. “I can put them in the closet for you.” She handed the items back over.

He was glad that he had to round the corner out of view to hang her coat up in the entryway closet. It gave him a chance to collect himself, to take a deep breath and try and organize his thoughts. Everything would be perfectly fine if he would just act like a normal person. When he had finally collected himself again and headed back into the living room, he found her sitting on the couch, feet curled up beneath her, waiting patiently for him to come back. She flashed him a soft smile when he came into view; the only sign she gave that anything unusual might have occurred was her shoes lined up neatly next to the coffee table. Michael wasn’t sure if he should thank her or panic at the sight. “Why don’t you come sit with me?” she asked, still flashing him an understanding smile. “We can talk for a while.”

The offer was a little intimidating in light of what had just occurred. He sunk down onto the couch, close enough that the space he left between them wasn’t noticeable. He turned his body to face her, an arm resting on the back of the couch. Was this the part where she told him this wouldn’t work, the part where she ran for the hills? He found that he didn’t want that, and not just because it would potentially ruin his plans. “We’re not so good with the talking,” he pointed out.

She chuckled a little, her fingers reaching out to run softly along his arm. “I admit,” she said with a smile, “it is difficult for me to think with your penis inside of me.” She flashed him a mischievous smirk. “Not that I’m complaining. In fact, your ability to fuck me until I’m incapable of anything other than lying there after the fact has always been a selling point of sleeping with you. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t talk to each other.”

The offer continued to be terrifying and a little confusing too. Even with everything else going on inside his head, Michael still felt himself fattening up some as she spoke. She continued to be the one thing in his life he couldn’t explain, even to himself. “What would you want to talk about?” he asked cautiously.

Her hand continued to brush along his arm slowly. “We could talk about whatever you wanted,” she said. The words seemed to bother her as she said them though, a pinched expression seizing her face.

“You okay?” he asked.

A small nod was the only response he got for a while before she finally said, “Yeah, I’m fine. That’s just something I say to your brother.” She gave him a small smile as she glanced back at him. “I saw him today, and I guess I was still in shrink mode or something. Sorry about that.”

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think about that confession. “How is he?” Michael asked, for want of something better to say.

Sara looked over at him carefully, a guarded look on her face. “Okay, I suppose.” She gave a small shrug. “I can’t really talk about him, but he seemed alright. He’s mad at me at the moment. But what else is new?”

The look on her face had him turning his arm to take her hand, squeezing it softly. This was such complicated territory that neither of them had considered when they got into this. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, the words coming out before he could consider what they might mean. “The part you can talk about at least.”

She frowned at him. For the longest moment he worried that maybe he had upset her or crossed a line. They had never done much talking about Lincoln before, so this conversation was uncharted territory for them. “Like I said,” she began, “I can’t really talk about it. I can’t talk to anyone about it.” She sounded a little sad as she spoke.

A flash of anger shot through him, directed at his brother. The thought was troubling. Why should he care if Lincoln had upset her? But the idea remained, gnawed at him. “If he said something that was out of line…” Michael began, looking at her with concern.

She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t him.” There was a long moment where she seemed to consider her next words. The silence weighed on him, made him afraid of what she might be about to say. “It was me, really,” she finally said. “I suggested that maybe I wasn’t the right person to help him, and he took it badly. But it’s all better now.” She worked to give him a big smile to show it was fine, but he could tell that she was still troubled.

The idea of her no longer seeing his brother bothered him too. Lincoln seemed to like talking to her. He would never admit it of course, but Michael could tell by the way his brother had spoken of the end of their meetings a few weeks ago when it seemed that he would never see her again. That she was contemplating not seeing Lincoln anymore left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he tried to tread carefully with the subject since he was sure Lincoln hadn’t. “I’m sure that my brother would never say as much, but he really likes talking to you. I think that you help him.”

“No, no, I know,” she said with a sad smile. “I just had a moment where I had a crisis of faith.” She paused and squeezed his hand, her face pensive. “All I want is to help him, and I was afraid that I wasn’t helping him, that maybe someone else might do better. Someone who didn’t balk at hearing about certain subjects.” He let her fall into a deep silence, sure that if he was just patient that she would tell him more. Sure enough after a few minutes she began again. “Look,” she said with a significant look, “I’m skirting the boundaries of what I am allowed to say with this, but like I said, I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this.” He allowed another pause to go by unanswered. “I told you that we talk about a lot of things, right? Him mostly. Or the things that are important to him at least. The people that are important to him.” She glanced at him significantly again. “Like his son. And you.”

Unconsciously he dropped her hand. He found himself worried once more that his brother might have said something to her. Surely Lincoln wouldn’t have mentioned the plan, but there was still a long list of other things that he really didn’t want her to know about him. Was that why she had been so reluctant to come over, something she’d learned about him? Her words on the phone, her actions since arriving, the little looks she kept giving him, it all played itself back behind Michael’s eyes. “He talks about me and LJ?” he asked carefully. “Like what?”

She looked conflicted. “I’m pretty sure that would be a betrayal of confidence. He doesn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The last part came out teasing, like she was trying to make a joke, but it did not soothe his racing thoughts.

“But he said something to upset you,” Michael pushed, hoping that he might get answers from a different angle.

She shook her head forcefully. With a sigh she went on. “He didn’t upset me so much as told me something that I don’t think I was meant to know.” She frowned off into space, her dilemma written all over her face. It was obvious that she wanted to say more but wasn’t sure where the line was. “So I cut off the conversation before it could go any further, before I could learn more things that I wanted to know. So many things that I wanted to know, so close. All I had to do was ask. It wasn’t professional interest though, it wasn’t about helping him. The only way I could keep from crossing the line was to stop the conversation before it went any further.” She glanced at him guiltily. “But then I felt bad. If that was what he wanted to talk about, needed to talk about, how could I deny him that? How was I helping him that way? That’s why I suggested someone else, someone who is impartial.” There was another guilty glance. “Someone not sleeping with his brother.”

So what Lincoln had said was definitely about him. The realization left him with a sinking feeling in his gut. What could his brother have possibly said? More importantly, what was he supposed to say to her now? After a moment Michael decided that the only way through was to joke about it. “You should know that my brother is a fantastic liar,” he said with a smile and a small laugh.

The look she gave him was questioning, almost skeptical. “You don’t even know what he said,” a slightly amused note to her voice. But he suspected that she was serious. And that he very much did not want to know what Lincoln had said. “I just don’t know what to do,” she said after a moment.

“About Lincoln?” he asked, uncertain that he wanted to be anywhere near this topic. “Or about me?”

She looked up at him guiltily. Of course she was having second thoughts about them, again. Must be Tuesday! He went to rise from the couch, though he had no clue why or where he planned to go, but Sara stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Wait,” she said, pulling him back down beside her. “Just listen for a minute.” He gave her a reluctant nod but didn’t meet her gaze. “We have fun together,” she started by saying. “But…”

“You can’t do this anymore,” he supplied for her without thinking, the lack of sleep putting him on edge.

“No,” she said. It was clear from her tone that she was tired too. She looked conflicted on how to continue. “No, I don’t want to stop this. I like this, whatever it is. And I think it’s working, the us part, for the most part at least. I could use a little more sleep in the future,” she added light heartedly. “Though is it difficult to keep my hands to myself around you, so I suppose you don’t get all the blame for that.” She gave him a quick once over, a mischievous smile on her face, but then she was back to the task at hand. “But,” she said with special emphasis on the word, “I think we need to discuss the fact that I have conversations, regularly, with a man who knows you very well. That doesn’t know about us. So he might say things that he thinks would be meaningless to me but aren’t.”

Michael finally looked at her, taking in the guarded expression on her face. Her eyes looked concerned though, the same concern they had worn when he’d picked her coat up off the floor. What could Lincoln have told her that would cause that look? “What exactly does he say about me and LJ?” he asked again, though he suspected that he would get the same answer as before.

Sara’s eyes darted around, unable to stay focused on one place for more than a few seconds. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find words that she was within rights to say. “Just that he worries about you,” she finally said. “Not surprising I suppose.” There was something else, something that kept her from looking directly at him. “He… uh… he mentioned something today, that you were sick as a kid.” She glanced at him briefly. “The way he made it sound, you’re still sick.”

The unasked question hung in the air, a cold knot in Michael’s gut. He rose from the couch again, and this time she didn’t reach out to stop him. By the time he was aware of himself again, he was in the kitchen and out of view. Of all the things that Lincoln could have told her that was very nearly the worst thing he could have picked. But why would he have known that? As she pointed out, his brother had no idea about, had no reason to know that he was revealing potentially incriminating information to Michael’s… whatever she was. And now she knew about him. Or did she? The rest of her explanation about why Lincoln was upset with her came back to him. Without meaning to he found his feet carrying him back to the living room. She was sitting right where he had left her. “What else did he say?” he asked without preamble.

She cleared her throat. “Nothing else. About you at least. I changed the subject.” She looked unsure for a moment. “Michael why don’t you sit down and talk to me?” she asked. It was a tempting offer but also one that shared him. He shook his head and remained standing at the end of the couch just staring in her general direction. “I’m sorry that I said anything,” she added. “This is all so hard. How do I do this, you and me but at the same time me and Lincoln? What do I do when he says things that I am almost certain that you would have told me if you wanted me to know?”

They were good questions, but he wasn’t sure that he had the answers any more than she did. He had had so many plans when he had asked her to come over, but this conversation wasn’t one of them. Maybe that’s what he should do, fuck her until she forgot everything that his brother had told her about him. Somehow Michael feared that wouldn’t work. He shuffled a little from one foot to the other, still refusing to take a seat beside her on the couch. “I’m sure that you have questions,” he muttered.

“I do,” she said, “So many questions. I didn’t ask them. I wanted to badly, but that wouldn’t have been fair to either you or your brother.” She shifted a little on the couch and cleared her throat. “I wondered, after he and I talked, if maybe we should come clean.”

The confession caught him completely off guard. “To who?” he asked without thinking.

“Your brother,” she replied with a laugh.

The answer helped him relax a little, but the idea continued to be unnerving. “He won’t talk to you if he knows about us,” Michael told her. He was certain that was the case.

“But if he doesn’t know he’ll be more likely to tell me something you wouldn’t want me to know.”

That was a fair point, but he still found it difficult to contemplate how they would tell his brother the truth. “If he finds out, he won’t tell you anything at all.”

She nodded in agreement, rising from the couch. There was a moment of hesitation on her part before she walked over to stand in front of him. “It was just a thought. If you don’t think we should tell him, then we won’t. And I’ll try to be better at handling the mention of you from time to time. It’s just hard because I want to know more but can’t ask.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Was this the point when she told him she couldn’t do this anymore? “Look,” she said, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I should get home. It’s not because of anything Lincoln said, I swear. I’m just exhausted; you’re hard to keep up with.”

He nodded to himself. So she was going to disappear into the night after all. The more he thought of it that was the last thing that he wanted. As much as a part of him had hoped to hear the click of the door while he was in the kitchen, he wanted her to stay with him. “You could stay here,” he whispered, shifting his weight from side to side again. “And actually sleep.” He tried for a soft smile, anything to keep her there with him.

Sara looked unsure of herself, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a way that he had never seen before. “We don’t generally do sleepovers,” she reminded him.

Was that an actually rule or just a pattern they developed? He couldn’t remember. “But we have slept over at each other’s places before. You’ve even slept over here before.”

She laughed lightly. “I recall many things occurring in your bed, but sleep was not one of them.”

Hesitantly he reached out and pulled her into his arms. The kiss he gave her was soft, short and sweet. Something to show her he could behave himself if necessary. “Just sleep this time,” he whispered, “I promise.” He even kept his hands safely on her waist.

She watched him for a moment. The look on her face wasn’t uncertain as much as thoughtful. “Are you okay?” she asked carefully.

This was never a conversation that he expected that they would have. It was no use being mad at his brother for telling her, but he still felt a twinge of anger toward him regardless. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really. I promise.” Her eyes were still searching, eager to know more. He knew that this was a conversation that they were going to have to have, at least in part. “I have this thing, low latent inhibition. My mother had it too, I think, though she never told me as much. It’s not bad or dangerous or anything. I just see the world differently is all, see details that a lot of people miss, and when I was little sometimes I would get overwhelmed by it all. But I’m fine now and have been fine for years.”

She let the matter drop with a slight nod. It wasn’t nearly as painful as Michael thought it would be, but the reality that he had told her something he had told no one else before weighed heavily on him. They weren’t supposed to be getting to know each other like that, weren’t supposed to be more than two bodies coming together. Yet they kept revealing things to each other, giving away their deep dark secrets. In the moment he pushed the thought from his mind. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked quietly, completely ignoring that she hadn’t agreed to stay over.

Sara gave him a small half smile and nodded, following him as he led the way toward his room. It was odd having her here so close but with all her clothes on. Yet somehow it felt right. As much as he had wanted her earlier, and even wanted her now, Michael found that he what he really wanted was to hold her in a different way than what they usually did. Even as he watched her slowly pulling off her jeans, he felt little more than a faint twitching of his cock at the sight of her long bare legs. He was definitely going to fuck her come morning, but for now he was content to just hold her in his arms and sleep. With a sigh he sat on the bed as she finished taking off her pants and folded them neatly. He watched her for a moment as she glanced around uncertainly. ‘What’s wrong?” he asked her.

She looked a little sheepish as she looked at him. No words came out, but she held her jeans out a little like a question. ‘Where do I put there?’ The unspoken dilemma left him cold for a moment. How easily he had forgotten his behavior earlier. But of course she had remembered, remembered and connected it to his confession. Did she pity him? Was that why she was being so careful now? He shook the thought from his mind, rising from the bed to take her pants from her. After some thought he set them on top of the laundry hamper on the other side of the bathroom door, out of sight, out of mind. When he returned she was already curled up under the covers. He paused for a moment to look at her before climbing into the bed himself. She gave a soft sigh as his arms wrapped around her and turned to face him. They lay there for a long time just staring at each other. There were so many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to explain. The silence weighed on him, bring all those worries and concerns to the surface. Involuntarily Michael found himself speaking. “I just like things neat and clean is all,” he mumbled, trying very hard to hold her gaze.

“Shh,” she whispered. “You don’t have to explain,” she said, silencing him with a kiss.

They laid there together for a long time, neither speaking but saying so much at the same time. It felt nice to just have someone there with him. Not just anyone, her. He was glad to have her in bed beside him, to have his arms around her. Finally after a long time just lying there together they both drifted off into some much needed sleep.


	6. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have finished this chapter at last, and I am deeply, deeply sorry. I stuck with my original ending for this chapter, which you will hate, I'm sure. But, on the flip side, there is a shit ton of smut in this chapter. Like a lot, more than usual. Maybe that helps a little bit. Probably not. But don't worry, I do plan to get to work on the next chapter tomorrow. If all goes according to plan I should have it up within a week to a week in and a half from now. We will see how that goes. I don't expect that it should take too long at the rate I have been writing though. Hopefully you guys like this chapter for the most part, even with the angsty end. As always, please feel free to let me know what you think. I always enjoy hearing from you guys. I will keep you apprised if anything changes posting date wise for the next chapter if it looks like it will take longer than expected.

Chapter 5: March

Sara was snoozing pleasantly in Michael’s arms until the incessant beeping woke her up much too soon. It took a moment for her to place the noise. Alarm clock. She groaned softly. Though she had managed to get what amounted to a full night’s sleep, or at least close to it, she still felt wore out, like she had barely slept at all. She lay there for a moment, fighting to keep her eyes open and will herself to get up. Her body was pretty much just as she had last left it the night before, burrowed deep beneath the covers, pressed firmly against Michael. With a deep breath she inhaled the smell of him and shook him gently. “Michael,” she whispered. He hummed softly into her neck, which she took to mean he must have been somewhat conscious. “Baby, you’re alarm is going off.”

Michael gave a groan of his own before rolling over slightly to shut off the interruption. A moment later he was back, head burrowed in the crook of her neck. His arm held her tightly, pressing their bodies together in a way that made his morning wood plain. Her body was slowly responding to the stimulus, hips moving slightly to brush against him even as she half dozed. She fought to stay awake, to get up the willpower to crawl out of his bed, but it was so warm beneath the covers, curled up in his arms dreaming about what she’d like to do to him if they had to time. Luckily, just as she was about to drift off again she felt his lips against her neck. The light brush along her skin was nice, but the sudden increase in pressure brought the risk back to the forefront of her mind. “Careful where you put those,” she whispered, “your brother saw the hickey beneath my ear. I can’t be walking around the prison all marked up like a teenager.”

“Maybe I want people to see them,” he teased. His words came out groggy. At least one part of him appeared to be still asleep. The cock she could feel pressed against her ass was decidedly not sleepy at all.

A soft groan fell from her lips. If she didn’t leave now, before he truly got started, she would never make it home in time to shower before work. And if she let him get started, she would definitely need a shower. The memory of the last time she had woken up in his apartment popped into her head. It had been over an hour before she was able to get up to go home. She had lost track of the number of times she came on his fingers before she finally pushed his hand away. The thought left a fluttering feeling in her stomach that warned of the impending growth of her arousal. He was a master at pulling lazy orgasms from her first thing in the morning when neither of them was fully awake. How she would have loved to have one now, but there wasn’t time. “I’ve got to go,” she said, playfully trying to wriggle away. Michael only chuckled against her skin, continuing to kiss his way down her neck, his lips against her skin distracting in the best way. “And remember, no visible marks,” she added after a long moment, suspecting that there was already no hope of leaving his bed anytime soon.

“Buzzkill,” he teased. “Leaving marks is half the fun.” But he continued his decent to areas covered by clothing just to please her. She hummed softly as his lips ghosted along her collar bone. “You seem to still have clothes on,” he commented, tugging on the t-shirt she had slept in to get more access to the skin at the base of her neck.

If he was already contemplating the amount of clothing she wore, then it was much later in the game than she thought. Another groan escaped her, along with a fresh attempt to wriggle free. “I really got to go,” she whispered. His hand on her waist kept her pressed to him firmly. She knew that if she really tried to leave he would let her, but it was difficult to gather enough willpower to rise with the way she could feel the brush of his lips all the way down to her toes. “I need to take a shower before work,” she said, more as a reminder to herself than to him.

“Shower here,” he whispered into the skin along the top of her shoulder.

Somehow she suspected that she wouldn’t get very clean in his shower. Besides, she had nothing to change into afterwards. It was a tempting offer all the same. She squirmed in his grip, causing him to groan as her ass brushed against his cock. His arm remained tight around her waist, but she managed to flip over on her back all the same, getting her first glimpse of him. He looked at her out of half lidded eyes, pupils blown with arousal. Just the look on his face was enough for her to feel herself getting wet between her thighs. Without thinking she leaned over slightly and pressed her lips against his own. Both of them had horrible morning breath, but she didn’t care as they kissed softly. For a moment she was able to convince herself that she might still be able to get out of his grip, and then he was shifting on the bed, her legs opening without prompting to let him crawl between them. He rubbed himself against her, the barriers between them adding to the friction. It was a new sensation. A soft laugh fell from her lips. “What?” he asked, lips still ghosting against her own.

Sara pulled away to look at him playfully, a soft smile on her face as the thought played through her mind again. “It just occurred to me that I don’t think we’ve ever been in bed together with clothes on before.” Not that there were many clothes to be had between them, a grand total of three items between her t-shirt and panties and his boxer briefs that were currently leaving nothing to the imagination.

He returned her soft laugh, but it was clear that nothing about this was a joking matter to him. “I suppose we’ll just have to do something about that then,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her as a hand snuck underneath her shirt.

She sighed softly as his fingers dug into her hip, all thought of leaving fleeing from her mind. This was how she wanted to wake up every morning even if it meant being late for work. Nothing could be better than this. His hand creeping higher and his hard cock pressed against her only added to the wet spot she was rapidly making in her underwear. Already she wanted him inside of her so bad. Today she didn’t want it to be a slow, lazy orgasm that he drug out of her half-conscious body but something hard and fast that had her feeling it all day long. “I need it baby,” she groaned quietly as his fingers brushed across her ribcage.

His hips jerked against her at the words, always so turned on when she called him that. The thought had another groan falling from her lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he said, his cock rubbing against her again. “You’re soaking through your underwear.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer as their lips touched again. His tongue slid into her mouth as they rubbed against each other slowly, prolonging the friction for as long as possible. She wanted him so bad right now, having long forgotten why she ever wanted to crawl away. Whatever reason she’d had couldn’t have been too important if it was so easily forgotten. His hand kept sliding higher, curling against her breast, kneading it firmly, but as he touched her she pulled away suddenly with a hiss. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched across his face.

“I’m fine. Just a little sore,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said back, lightening his touch in the process until he was only cupping her flesh. “Better?” he asked as he brushed his thumb across her nipple softly. The shock it sent through her had her squirming against him, dragging along his clothed cock. “You like that?” he whispered, repeating the motion.

There weren’t words to describe how much she liked it. She had never felt like that before, like she was on fire but in the best possible way. He moved his hand along her breast carefully as he leaned back down to seize her lips again. Her breast was still tender as he played with it gently, but every time he brushed across her nipple a jolt of pleasure shot through her. It kept her from complaining about the pain. Her arousal certainly wasn’t affected by the little bit of pain. The way their hips rolled together wasn’t helping matters any, as she got closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck,” she said, pulling away with a groan. Though it was a pity to stop the friction along her clit, she slowed her hips enough to reach between them and brush along his cock. The front of his boxer briefs was soaking wet right where she could feel his shaft. “Shit!” she groaned. “Is that you or me?”

Michael chuckled softly. “A little me,” he replied, pinching her nipple lightly. The shock it gave her was too much, causing her to moan loudly. “Mostly you. Can’t you feel how wet you are?”

Before she could respond he pulled his hand away from her breast and guided her own from his cock to her dripping pussy. Even through the fabric of her underwear she should tell this was probably the most turned on she’d ever been. Another moan fell from her lips, this one a little quieter. How’d he manage to get her so worked up? She could feel her walls clenching as he ran his finger lightly along her clit. The touch was barely there then gone again just as her toes curled. “I want you so bad,” she groaned.

“Oh I can tell,” he said with a chuckle. A finger dipped beneath the edge of her underwear, brushing against her folds. “I’ve never felt you like this before.”

The finger slid inside her briefly before his hand disappeared from between her thighs entirely. She could feel her juices against her skin as he pushed her t-shirt up enough to expose the breast he had been playing with. It took all she could to hold in the soft hiss that tried to escape when he wrapped his hand around her again. The slight pain she felt at the tenderness of her flesh was quickly replaced with pleasure as he leaned down and took her nipple between his lips. If his thumb across the nub had felt mind blowing, it was nothing to the brush of his tongue. She groaned loudly, feeling herself convulsing even more. He was going to be the death of her if he didn’t put his cock in her soon. As if to show him what she wanted, she rubbed herself against him again, but he didn’t take the hint, continuing to roll his tongue across her nipple. “Baby,” she groaned, “Baby please.” She reached down to run her hand along his dick again.

He thrust against her hand automatically, but he didn’t move from what he was doing. The torture was too much for her. She slid her hand into her underwear, searching for some kind of release. Her fingers had just found her clit when he reached down and pulled her hand away. Before she could try again with the other hand, he grabbed that one too, trapping them above her head. She let out a frustrated scoff, but he kept his mouth too busy to respond, sucking her nipple gently. The only action left to her was to roll her hips against his own. At least that he didn’t appear to mean to stop. The drag of his cock against her was almost enough to satisfy her for the time being, but she knew it wouldn’t be for long. She needed him inside her, fingers, tongue, cock, she didn’t care as long as she felt him soon, got off around some part of him before she lost her mind. Her orgasm was so close that she could feel it, her muscles so tight that it hurt. “Please,” she whined. His only response was to scrape his teeth lightly along her nipple, turning her plea into a loud hiss as the mixture of pleasure and pain tipped her over the edge. And that was certainly a first for her, either with or without him.

Far from realizing that he had gotten her off with just a little friction through their clothes and attention to her breast, Michael continued his ministrations, timing the movement of his hips with the action of his lips and tongue and teeth. The aftershocks had barely faded when Sara felt herself getting wound up again. Was she never going to get some relief? She squirmed against him, trying to get in a position that would allow her to feel him better. His hold on her hands was tight, keeping her from what she wanted, two fingers in her pussy and a thumb against her clit. The only thing she wanted more was the drag of his cock. Something else he seemed unwilling to give her. She groaned, frustrated and annoyed at his refusal to fuck her. “Damn you!” she hissed loudly.

He chuckled against her breast and racked his teeth against her nipple again, a finally parting gift before pulling away from her entirely. Another frustrated groan fell from her lips as he dug around in his bedside table. It would have been so easy to slip her fingers inside herself, but since he seemed about to give her what she needed, she merely slipped her soaked panties off instead and waited for him patiently, or as patiently as she was capable of. The second he was back between her thighs, she rubbed herself against him with an annoyed groan that he still hadn’t taken off his underwear. “Please baby,” she whispered, reaching out for him.

Her hand had barely brushed across his clothed cock before Michael was trapping her hands above her head again. “I’m going to need you to be good for a second if you want to get what you need,” he hissed in her ear. “Are you going to be good at keep your hands to yourself?” She nodded vigorously. There wasn’t anything she was unwilling to promise to get his cock inside her at last. He groaned softly in her ear. “Since you promise to be good even though you want to touch so badly, I guess I’ll have to give you a reward.”

At first she feared he meant more of what he’d given her since they’re woken up, but instead he pressed the condom in her hands and released her wrists. A soft groan fell from her lips as he sat back on his haunches, pulling his underwear down enough to expose himself to her. Just the sight of his cock had her walls fluttering hopefully again. His was the nicest she had ever seen, just the thought of it regularly had her dripping, but the times when she got to touch it, to feel it inside her, were some of the best moments of her life. Her body craved him in a way that it had never craved anyone before. So glad to be this close to her goal, she reached down and ran her fingers along his shaft lightly. There was a warning look in his eyes, telling her to stay focused. She wasn’t allowed to touch him now, not any more than what was necessary to roll the condom on his dick. With a small nod to show she had understood the warning, she opened the wrapper, taking as long as he would let her to roll the condom on him. When her fingertips hit his base, she squeezed gently, one quick firm grip before she pulled her hand from his cock. He was watching her with an odd look on his face, something softer than pure arousal looking back at her. The look at her squirming, turned on in a new way she didn’t understand. Curious if he would stop her she reached out and cupped his balls gently, rolling them against her palm. He hissed softly. “No touching,” he said, a pained look on his face.

He wanted her to keep touching him, that much was clear, but with a frustrated groan he gathered her hands again to pin them above her head. She squirmed in anticipation as his cock brushed against her thigh, but when he entered her it was with his fingers. No matter how much she had wanted those fingers inside of her only minutes before, they weren’t enough. Her hips tried to jerk away. “Please,” she pleaded.

There was still that odd look in his eyes as he pumped his fingers in and out despite how much she squirmed away. Even as he found her g-spot she craved more, the plea constant even as she neared release. He circled his thumb against her clit, watching his fingers ease in and out of her. No matter how she tried to say that she needed more, he knew her body well enough to know just how much pleasure he was giving her. “You are so fucking wet right now,” he told her, pressing his finger deep. She was only able to respond with a groan as he managed to push her over the edge. “Already?” he teased. “You must be really hard up.” He grabbed his cock, rubbing it along her twitching folds.

She nodded, pulling against his hand, trying to get her hands free so she could touch him, but her movements halted as he thrust into her abruptly. Even the moan she tried to give was aborted by the snapping of his hips. “That what you needed?” he teased, keeping his thrusts slow but deep.

A groan of frustration fell from her lips. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t enough, but her body was already betraying her with the truth of how much she enjoyed what he was giving her. “Oh baby,” she moaned, “So good for me.” His hips snapped a little harder for a moment only to slow back down again.

It was annoying just how good what he was giving her felt when her body craved so much more. He knew what she needed even when she thought she wanted something else. Her hips snapped up to meet his, giving into the torturous rhythm he was insisting on. “Good girl,” he whispered. “You deserve a reward.”

There was a mischievous look in his eyes before he dived back down to seize her nipple between his teeth. She was so sensitive beneath him that she found herself already fluttering around him. How was he so able to get her just there on the edge? He pushed his cock deep, rubbing along her g-spot as his tongue soothed the hurt left by his teeth. Her walls gripped him tightly, the light sucking on her nipple pushing her back over the edge. He made no comment about her orgasm other than the run his teeth along her nipple again.

The aftershocks rippled through her, but still he didn’t stop. She groaned. First he tried to kill her with denial, and now he seemed intent on making her die upon his dick. At least it would have been a pleasurable way to go. “Michael,” she hissed, snapping her hips faster.

To her surprise he allowed her to pick up the pace but not nearly fast enough for what she hand in mind. She wanted to repay him for all he had given her, but he was too intent on pulling another orgasm from her to commit to his own pleasure. The roll of his tongue along her nipple was already doing most of the work for him. Her body ached in a fantastic way as his cock continued to drag lazily through her folds. “I need you to come for me baby,” she whispered.

He groaned softly but didn’t give in. His tongue circled her nipple slowly as his hand crept between their bodies to find her clit. She was so overworked that the slightest touch had her hissing loudly in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He rubbed her gently, keeping a steady rhythm between his finger, cock, and tongue. It was all too much for her to stay put together. “Shit!” she groaned as her walls contracted hard. Her moans came out breathless. “Right… right there baby,” she panted as his cock rubbed inside her at just the right angle. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire as he pulled another climax from her.

Michael continued going even as she was struggling to come down. The push of his cock wouldn’t let her walls relax. It was frustratingly glorious as he kissed around her nipple, definitely leaving a mark behind for her to look at in the shower later. The way he grunted into her flesh told her that he was nearing his own release, and she redoubled her efforts to get him off. Their hips snapped together a little faster, the movement of his fingers on her clit speeding up too. They were both right there on the edge together, and then he jerked suddenly, biting her breast harshly as he came. A shocked gasp escaped Sara’s lips at the pain as the fingers along her clit pushing her over with him.

The hold against her wrists let up as he collapsed against her chest. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to bite you that hard. I know you said they were sore, and I never meant to hurt you.”

“Shh,” she whispered to him again like she had the night before, her arms wrapping around his back to soothe him. “You didn’t hurt me,” she assured him, a hand rubbing along his back.

He had never been like this before after they had fucked. It was another layer to that strange look in his eyes as he’d stared at her. She wondered if it was their conversation from last night still playing on his mind. Regardless of the reason, he lay there on her chest, clinging to her like a life raft as his cock softened inside her. As she ran her hand along his back Sara couldn’t help but think this was by far the best way she had ever woken up, with five orgasms before breakfast.

***

LJ was already sulking on the other side of the barrier when the guard led Lincoln into the cage. He did not return the smile that his father gave me. “How have you been?” Lincoln asked. His son shrugged but didn’t say anything, his scowl firmly in place. This had been the way their meetings had been going lately. As always, Lincoln worked to fill the silence himself. “I talked to you mother yesterday, and she said that you’re about to start community service. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” His son continued to glare at him. Lincoln had to remind himself that this was necessary. The boy could be upset with him all he wanted as long as he got his shit together at the same time. “You don’t have anything to say?” he asked, working hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

LJ shrugged. “You’re the one who insists that I keep coming back. I came.” He glanced over his shoulder at his uncle standing close enough to hear their conversation but obviously not paying attention. “Maybe you’d rather talk to him,” he said.

Michael appeared to shake himself from whatever thoughts had been haunting him and frowned at his nephew. “No, you don’t get to get out of talking to your father just because I’m here.”

The teen rolled his eyes as he turned around, muttering, “Just figured you guys had more to say to each other.”

Lincoln glanced at his brother, watched the way he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He had to remind himself that now wasn’t the time to ponder what was going on. This was supposed to be about steering his son back onto the right path not untangling the mysteries of his brother’s brain. With the reminder at the forefront of his mind, Lincoln cleared his throat. “You will have to talk to me at some point,” he told his son with a significant look. The boy shrugged again and continued to glower through the barrier. “We can talk about anything you want.” Michael glanced at him sharply but said nothing. There wasn’t time to untangle that either.

LJ rolled his eyes again. It hurt just how much his son did not want to be here, but being a parent didn’t always mean doing what your kid wanted. Lincoln had heard that somewhere: that sometimes you had to make them unhappy to do what was best for them. And this was what was best for the boy whether he realized it or not. “I don’t see why you care now,” the teen eventually muttered.

“I’ve always cared,” Lincoln said, taking in the way the boy rolled his eyes and scowled off into the distance. Was that really what his son thought, that he didn’t care about him? That realization hurt more than any other. “Of course I care,” he said. “I’m your father. Why would you think that I don’t care about you?”

The teen’s eyes snapped back toward him. “You’ve been gone my whole life. Even when you were around, before you ended up back in here, you left us. Barely even a goodbye, you just went.” The boy paused for a second and chewed over his words. “You made Mom cry when you abandoned us.”

Lincoln sighed heavily. Of course that would come up again. “That was complicated,” he said. That had been his excuse back then though, and the boy was older now, more able to understand. “You were little,” he began, “It was hard for you to get what was going on, but your mother and I were not happy together.”

“Oh so it was her fault?” LJ shot back, anger dripping from his tone.

It took a tremendous effort for Lincoln to remain calm. “Of course not. You’re old enough now to realize that relationships are complicated. Sometimes they don’t make sense. And we never made sense, Lisa and me. That caught up with us eventually.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You say that I made her cry when I left, but the truth is I left because I made her cry. It wasn’t fair to her to have to put up with my shit just because we had a kid together. But I never meant to give you the impression that I was trying to leave you. I know that I haven’t been the best father, but you act like I used to beat you and put cigarettes out on your arm.” His brother shifted awkwardly in the background at the comment. But that was in another life, a part of the past neither of them wanted to dredge up, so he turned his attention back to his son. “I want to help you, do all I can to mend fences, but I need you to meet me at least part of the way.”

LJ looked up at his father. He clearly still didn’t want to be here, having this conversation, but he gave a little half nod all the same. Lincoln sighed again, nodding a little himself. “So how is school?” he asked, for want of something to say. He had never cared about school, but he had always wanted better for his own kid.

LJ merely shrugged. “Okay I guess. It’s school.”

Lincoln glanced between the boy and his brother. Michael had always been the one to love school; if only his son had acquired that passion from him instead. “I never liked school much either,” he said. “You got to stick it out though, end up like your uncle.”

The teen looked horrified at that, the look making Lincoln chuckle a little bit. “He does work too much,” Lincoln said with a small glance at his brother. “But he’s got his shit together. I was never much into that either. Not something to aspire to.”

His son glanced over his shoulder at the man standing behind him. There was an odd look on his face when he turned back around. Lincoln couldn’t quite place it. “If you say so,” the teen replied. “Mom says both of you are fucked up beyond repair.” The statement came out bland, like it was simply a fact he had memorized at school or something.

The brothers exchanged a brief glance. Was Michael messed up too? The question plagued him, bothered Lincoln in ways that he couldn’t put into words. Instead he said, “Don’t cuss. It’s the sign of a poor vocabulary.”

Michael chuckled at that, but LJ merely rolled his eyes. There was a short pause while Michael looked at his watch. The guard behind Lincoln nodded on the cage. “Time to go Linc,” he said when Lincoln turned to look at him.

“I got to go,” he said, turning back to his son and brother. Michael was frowning heavily. “I’ll see you next week,” Lincoln assured him. “And I can always call next time I get the change.” Michael nodded though the frown still remained in place. He stood there for a moment before turning to go as Lincoln was led away. As they walked back toward his cell, Lincoln couldn’t help but think that there was something that his brother had wanted to say to him. For some reason the thought sent a chill up his spine. Whatever was going on with his brother, Lincoln had a feeling it wouldn’t end well.

***

Michael stood staring at the wall of his office. Everything was laid out perfectly in front of him, the tattoo nearly finished. A few more touch-ups and the map would be complete. So what held him back from putting the plan in motion? As always his eyes flicked to the photo of Sara on the wall. It had been a few days since she had last woken up in his bed, but the thought of what she’d felt like beneath him the last time was still readily in his mind. And after… The thought was interrupted by the sudden ringing of the phone. Probably best he didn’t think too much about the way they had laid there with her holding him for what felt like forever until both of them had to admit they needed to get up and go to work. The memory had stayed with him all day until the only thing he wanted was to be back in her arms again. It was still with him now. He pushed the thought from his mind as he picked up the phone.

It took a few moments to get through the automated voice before he could accept the charges. “Linc,” he said once he heard the click that meant they had been connected.

“What’s going on?” his brother asked.

Lincoln sounded tired, like he hadn’t slept any since they had last spoken at visitation the day before. “You alright?” Michael asked instead of answering the question.

There was a significant pause where Lincoln sighed pointedly. “I’m fine. Please tell me that I’m interrupting you on a date or something instead of working.”

Michael looked guiltily at the wall with all his plans on it. He certainly couldn’t tell his brother what he was up to, not over a recorded phone call, not at all given Lincoln’s opinion of the plan. “Not working, just got home. Sorry that LJ was being such a little shit the other day.” He leaned against his desk, struggling for something to say. “You still want me to bring him next week?” he finally said.

“Of course,” he said automatically followed by a significant pause. It was a long time before Lincoln continued. The silence on the line was enough to make Michael try and fill the space since they had such limited time, but he waited for his brother to finally say something. “I thought maybe there was something that you wanted to talk to me about.”

There was a question in there somewhere that Michael wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. He remembered clearly what had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time he last saw his brother, but now that they weren’t face to face, it was easier to push the urge away. “I always want to talk to you,” he said to cover. “There’s no mystery in that.”

There was another sigh on the other end of the line, but this one almost sounded relieved. “Good,” his brother said. “I was worried about you, that something was going on.”

The word worry leaped out at him. Hadn’t that been what Sara had said, that Lincoln worried about him? Was that why his brother sounded so tired, because he had been up all night worrying about him? “I’m fine, really,” he said as a way to assuage his brother’s concerns. “What about you?” he asked, half concerned himself, half fishing. “You… uh… you still seeing the prison doctor? What was her name? Sasha? Samantha?”

“Sara,” Lincoln supplied automatically. He paused for a moment. “She’s been coming around again, if that’s what you mean. Why?” His tone made it plain that this was not a conversation he was keen on.

Michael shifted against the desk some, glad that his brother couldn’t see him. Though he knew that he was on thin ice, he couldn’t help himself from going on. “I was just curious. Does it help, talking to her?” He paused for a second, trying to keep the rest of his words from spilling out, but in the end he found himself speaking again. “What do you even talk to her about anyway? I never knew what to say to any of the shrinks that they sent me to. I can’t imagine that it’s any easier for you. What is there even to say? Do you talk about like LJ? Me?” There was another long pause where his brother continued not to say anything. “Because I guess that would be understandable, talking about the people around you or whatever. I just don’t know why, what there would be to say.”

“Are you okay?” Lincoln asked, suddenly cutting him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Michael said, his eyes flicking to the picture of Sara again. “I just was curious.”

“If I talk about you to the doc? Would it matter if I did?”

The question hung in the air for a second before there was a beep on the other end of the line. “Looks like times up,” Lincoln said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

But before Michael could respond he was gone.

***

Sara sat at her desk hunched over her notebook, hoping for some clarity before she headed down to see Lincoln. For some reason she found that she was nervous to see him this time around. It was the first time since she had suggested that he maybe talk to someone else, a little over a week now, but she still worried that he would be upset with her for the suggestion. He had reacted so badly, worse than she would have thought. The memory haunted her. All this time she had been contemplating the risk of her getting attached to him and never once thought that Lincoln might end up getting attached to her instead. Was she just another person that he was going to lose in a couple of months? The question concerned her. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. They were just supposed to sit and talk as a way to help him process what was coming; he wasn’t supposed to get attached to her, to look forward to her visits. But then, he didn’t really have anybody else around. Sure there was his son and Michael, but they were on the other side of the bars. And as much as she was free to leave if and when she wanted, Sara had to acknowledge that she was technically on the same side of them as he was. And they weren’t related. He had no reason to hold back from saying anything he wanted to her. Of course he might relish that freedom. His son was still a boy, probably as hurt and confused by the situation as Lincoln was himself. And his brother was… Her brain seemed unable to finish that sentence. The thought of Michael was complicated, always had been, but lately things had gotten so much more so. There was a question in the back of her mind that Sara still refused to ask herself. What was he to her? The answer to that was supposed to be simple, because they had agreed to be friends, just friends who sometimes slept together, but the way they had laid there in bed together, with his head on her chest and her arms around him, did not seem like friends. The way she had felt as she held him didn’t feel very friendly either. And if they weren’t friends… She shoved the question away as Katie walked into the office. Now wasn’t the time to be considering their relationship status, not when she was about to sit down with his brother. If she wasn’t careful, this visit would end up like their last, another worrisome thought. Instead she turned her attention towards her friend. “What’s up?” she asked.

Katie turned around to look at her, a stack of files held to her chest. “Just bringing these back.” She brandished the files as further visual evidence that Sara had finally allowed her to help with the filing cabinet after much pestering. “Are you okay though?” she asked while watching Sara closely. “You look tired. More late nights with the boyfriend?”

The word was like a punch in the gut. Boyfriend? Was Michael her boyfriend? She tried to shake the thought from her mind. Definitely not a question she wanted to address. “I’m just feeling a little run down,” she said, as a way to direct her friend away from the topic of Michael Scofield.

Which didn’t work at all. Katie smirked at her knowingly and said, “At least tell me that all the sex isn’t because he has to practice to get it right.”

“Oh, he gets it right,” Sara answered without considering the response. Almost instantly the memory of the last time she had gone to his apartment popped into her head. Just the thought of what he had done to her, the way he’d made her feel, was enough to have her shifting uncomfortably in her seat, every nerve in her body on fire. There was a strange twisting in her gut at the memory. Whatever he had done to her, she wanted again, needed again. And the marks he had left behind… It sent a shiver down her spine just thinking of the way she had spent long moments just staring at them. But that probably wasn’t something her friend wanted to talk about. Had they ever had that conversation, she could just imagine what Katie would have made of the bite mark he’d left on the underside of her breast that took days to fully fade. The bruises his hands had left on her wrists had been hard enough to explain. Katie didn’t seem the type to understand Sara’s fascination with them. Her reaction when she saw them had certainly left something to be desired. But regardless what her friend thought, Sara was vividly aware that Michael knew what he was doing between the sheets. Maybe a little too well. They’d been too busy to get together since their sleepover, and she had been craving him for days, the thought of the ways he had made her body sing never too far from her mind. But that wasn’t what she needed to be thinking of as she was about to go talk to Lincoln, so she chose to ignore the anticipated look on her friends face. “I haven’t seen him lately; I’m just tired. It happens to us mere mortals from time to time.” She chuckled at her little joke.

Katie frowned a little at that. “You’ve been tired for a while though,” she began.

Sara dismissed the thought with the wave of a hand. “It’s nothing. Probably all that overwork you keep complaining about.” She shot her friend a careful smile. “I promise; I’m fine.”

Katie looked appeased for the moment. “I just worry about you is all. Just wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.”

“I appreciate that,” Sara replied genuinely.

There was a long moment where the two friends stared at each other before Katie glanced away awkwardly and cleared her throat. She looked back to Sara for a moment right before she spoke. “But you’re still seeing the same guy?” She asked the question innocently, but Sara suspected that there was something beneath the question that she wouldn’t like. “The one that gave you the bruises on your wrists?”

“Yes,” Sara said cautiously. It was probably safe to refer to what they were doing as seeing each other, for want of a better description that she was not ready to consider. “Why?” she added, the second question suddenly making her suspicious of where this line of questioning was going.

Katie appeared to be chewing over her words. “I just wonder if it’s a good idea to be dating a guy like that is all.”

There was that implication again. Dating. Boyfriend. Words Sara didn’t want to consider. Luckily the rest of Katie’s statement helped to distract her thoughts. “Why would that be?” Sara asked.

The nurse looked around nervously. “I mean, he hurt you,” she said after a long moment. “The bruises have just now gone away. What will he do next time?”

Sara sighed. She had thought that Katie wasn’t particularly thrilled when she had admitted the source of the marks on her wrists, but this line of thought took her a little by surprise. “I told you that it wasn’t like that,” she hissed, careful to lower her voice so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

“He held you down,” Katie replied, her expression the most serious Sara had ever seen it.

“And?” she asked, genuinely confused as to the issue. She had explained what had happened, albeit in as few details as possible, and didn’t understand where this was coming from. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Like what, rape?” Katie glanced around the room and lowered her voice. “It’s okay to admit it. No shame in it.”

Sara sat there unsure how to respond for a long moment. “He didn’t like force himself on me. It was… You do realize that that’s a thing right? Being constrained during sex. If it was something I wasn’t into, I would have stopped him. And he would have stopped. It was about control, but not to a point that I couldn’t say no if I wanted.”

Katie only looked somewhat placated. “I still don’t think that’s okay. Why would he want to control someone like that? Isn’t that worrisome to you that he wants to possess you?”

To the nurse’s surprise Sara laughed. “It’s hard to explain without oversharing, but let’s just say that I was undermining his efforts to get me off spectacularly well. I thought I knew what I wanted, but he knew better.”

The nurse looked disbelieving. “You think this man knows you better than you do?”

“He gave me five orgasms.” The words came out blunter than she meant for them to, so Sara tired a softer approach. “It was never that I didn’t like what he was doing just that it felt so good that I wanted more. Haven’t you ever been so turned on that you can’t help but try and speed things up because you want to get off so bad it hurts, but in a good way, a way that you can’t even put into words?”

Katie looked appalled. “That sounds awful,” she said.

Maybe she wasn’t the person to have this conversation with. Sara threw up her hands. “Not your thing, got it. But so you know, it worked for me, and at no point did I feel threatened or like he was trying to hurt me. He probably didn’t even realize that he’d squeezed hard enough to leave marks. Okay? I promise, he is not like that, at all.” She paused, almost on the verge of telling Katie about what happened after they’d both came, but somehow she suspected that her friend might not understand that part either. It was difficult enough to explain to herself, let alone to someone else. “He’s actually really sweet.” This was the point when she was supposed to offer to introduce them or something, but that was all kinds of problematic. That was a subject that she couldn’t even begin to broach with Katie.

The nurse continued to look unconvinced. “I guess I have to take your word for it for the time being.” She looked awkward for a long moment. “I just remember you saying that you didn’t have the best taste in men, and I worry that maybe he is a part of that. What did you say? Men with deep seated emotional issues?”

Having her words thrown back at her came as a bit of a shock to Sara. She only vaguely remembered having said that at some point in their distant past. But that didn’t apply to Michael, right? Was he just another man she had found herself attracted to who was a mess? That was a difficult question to consider. There were so many things that came to mind suddenly, little things she hadn’t thought about before. But that was definitely something to ponder far away from the prying eyes of her best friend. She was just about to give some response, anything to get her friend off the scent when she glanced at the clock on the wall behind the nurse. “Oh crap! I need to get going. We’ll finish this later, I promise.”

The nurse looked at her skeptically for a moment but let it go. Sara had to do her job after all; it wasn’t just a way to dodge the subject. “I’ll make sure and lock up after I file these,” Katie said instead as Sara jumped up from her chair and began gathering up her things.

“Thanks,” the doctor yelled as she ran out of the office and down the hall.

***

The doc was late. Lincoln didn’t need a watch to know that. The nervous shifting of the guard on the other side of the door was all he needed to know. He tried not to wonder what may have kept her. Between their last meeting and his brother’s awkward questions the other night, Lincoln was a little unsure about how this was supposed to go. There was a nervousness in his bones that he had never felt before. And she wasn’t here yet. Why wasn’t she here? Was she not coming again? It was a hard question not to ask himself, even as he heard the hurried footsteps coming up the hall. It wasn’t until the door swung open and revealed her standing there out of breath that he pushed the idea of her abandoning him again from his mind. The cell door closed behind her as she struggled to catch her breath. “So sorry,” she panted. “Lost track… of… time.”

“That’s okay,” Lincoln said with a nod. His eyes followed her as she hurried over to her corner and sat at the table. “I was starting to think you must have gotten held up and couldn’t come after all.”

She waved a dismissive hand, still struggling to breathe normally. “I promised that I would be here.”

It took some effort not to point out that that didn’t mean much. Again, she was trying; he probably should too. The mantra didn’t make it any easier to mask his fears. “How’ve you been?” he asked instead, trying to keep things pleasant.

“Good? You?” she asked, almost on autopilot.

He couldn’t fault her for that. She looked like she was barely holding it together, but maybe that was just because she was running so late, frazzled instead of losing her mind. He wanted to ask but knew how that would likely end. So he chose to answer her question instead. “I’ve been okay. Had an odd conversation with my brother, but other than that, I’m good.”

The mention of Michael got a reaction out of her, a brief widening of the eyes that was almost impossible to spot. But Lincoln saw it and filed the knowledge away for later. “Odd?” she repeated as if she hadn’t reacted at all. “Why odd?” Her voice was carefully controlled, also something Lincoln filed away for later.

“It was about you actually,” he said with a shrug, careful to watch her reaction. There was that slight widening of her eyes again, along with barely noticeable uncomfortable shifting. It had taken months of studying her body language to notice, but if he looked carefully, there was something there. He set that aside, not quite sure what any of what he’d observed meant. “I guess not specifically about you. More that he wondered what I talked to you about. If I ever talked about him.” Opposed to calming the nervous shifting like Lincoln had planned, the explanation appeared to agitate her even more. And that was very interesting. If only he knew what it meant.

“What did you say?” she asked, again with the carefully controlled voice.

Lincoln thought about the best way to answer that. Eventually he chose to go with the truth instead of his thoughts about the exchange. “I didn’t really say anything. Time was up.” Usually a conversation like this would have her scribbling furiously, but the notebook remained unopened on her lap. That was also curious. She wasn’t immediately asking how the phone call had made him feel like she normally would have. There was definitely something strange going on that he planned to get to the bottom of. Since she seemed unwilling to ask him further question, he took it upon himself to fill in the blanks for her. “I’ve been wondering what I would have said if I’d had the chance, but nothing really comes to mind that seems to fit. Why would it matter if I talked about him to you anyway? Is there some reason why I shouldn’t?”

Sara’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the pen she still wasn’t using tightly. “That is a fair question,” she said. The words seemed to cost her something, but he wasn’t sure what. “Is your brother very anti-therapy?” she asked, a pinched look on her face.

So many things to wonder about, too many for him to process. He chose to focus on the question she’d asked, her words instead of her body language. “He’s actually been in and out of therapy since he was a kid.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, they felt like such a betrayal. She didn’t even know Michael, and here he was telling her all his deep dark secrets. “Now that I say that, I can see his point. I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about his personal business.”

She gave a small nod. “Of course, if you feel that way,” the doc said, dropping the conversation awfully quickly.

“What? No speech about how it helps to open up?” he asked with a cocky smile. “Isn’t that what you always say? ‘Use your words Lincoln.’ Certainly sounds like you.”

An awkward look crossed her face. “I do say that,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to, or feel you shouldn’t. We’re here to talk about you anyway, not your brother.”

“So does that mean we should add Michael to the list of things we aren’t allowed to talk about?” he asked carefully. He always had to be cautious of stepping over the line into forbidden territory.

She looked extremely uncomfortable. “Of course not. He’s your brother, and you should talk about him as much or as little as you feel comfortable. I just meant that talking about Michael isn’t necessarily why we’re here.”

“Then why are we here?” he asked automatically. “I mean, why are you here? I think we all know why I’m here.”

Sara sighed, still looking uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “I am here to help you come to terms with everything, to make sure you’re okay.”

Those words looked like they cost her too. And that was very interesting. Instead of filing it away Lincoln found himself questioning her about it. “Do you not want to be here Doc?”

The question seemed to catch her off guard. She sat there looking shocked for a long time before words came to her. “I’m not sure that I understand the question. If I didn’t want to talk to you Lincoln I wouldn’t have come.”

“Bullshit,” he continued pressing. “You have to come, the DOC is making you. But why you? You could have pawned me off on someone else surely.”

“You said you didn’t want to talk to someone else,” she responded. “I’m respecting your wishes. If those wishes have changed…” She trailed off with a frown. “Not that I am trying to get out of talking to you. I just mean that it is all up to you how this goes.”

Lincoln watched her for a moment, trying to read between the lines. “No, I want to know. Why don’t you want to be here?”

The look she shot him was calculating but uncertain. Whatever was going through her mind it wasn’t easy for her to express. Finally she said, “I don’t believe in the death penalty.”

The response surprised him. The way she had said it, there was no doubt that she was being truthful. “This a recent development for you?” he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“No,” she said simply.

The shock that statement left lingered for a long moment. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but if you tell them that I’m not crazy they will execute me,” he said slowly, glancing over at her in the process.

She sighed heavily. “Lincoln, they will execute you either way. I don’t come here to give them an answer that they want but to help you, to the best of my ability.”

Since she seemed willing to be honest with him he decided to push his luck a little. “But there is another reason you don’t want to come, right? Something you aren’t saying?” She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he spoke. “Never mind,” he said, trying to keep her from getting more upset with him than she probably already was.

Surprisingly she did not sound upset with him when she spoke but conflicted. “There are some things that I can’t discuss with you,” she said as she finally opened up her notebook.

He knew that he was going to have to accept that as an answer by the finality in her tone. “So then what can we talk about?” he asked. “What are the burning questions you want the answers to?”

She looked up at him sharply, her fingers freezing in the action of flipping through her notebook. The look she had on her face was panicked, like he had caught her doing something that she shouldn’t. “No burning questions,” she replied, sounding guilty as well. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

There was an unspoken reminder in her gaze that he shouldn’t ask more about her reluctance to be sitting here with him. It was a warning that he knew he had to heed. “I don’t know that I have anything particular to say at the moment,” he told her. There were things that were on his mind, but for some reason he wasn’t sure how to broach them. He watched her carefully, trying to put his thoughts in order.

“Is something bothering you Lincoln?” the doc asked suddenly. Maybe she was getting better at reading him too.

He weighed the question in his mind for a moment. “I guess Michael is bothering me,” he said reluctantly, just barely catching the way she froze at the mention of his brother. “He sounded strange on the phone. He’s been acting strange too. For a while now, months. I’m starting to worry something is going on with him.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, the question coming out strangled.

Lincoln weighed his words very carefully. There were certain things that he knew he couldn’t tell her. Things like, my brother once told me that he was going to break me out, and sometimes I wonder if he’s still planning to despite my objections. She would be obligated to tell someone that, right? There were rules after all. “I can tell you anything, right?” he asked with an uncertain look in her direction. “And you can’t tell anyone? That’s how this works.”

Sara sighed heavily, her brow furled. “For the most part,” she said carefully. “There are some things that I am required to report, if I feel like you are a danger to yourself or others, for example.” She frowned even deeper for a moment. “But of course, I would never betray your confidence to your brother. I would never tell him anything you said.”

“Because you and Michael do so much talking,” he replied with a laugh.

She smiled and laughed with him, though the merriment did not reach her eyes. “Of course. I just meant that you seemed unsure about talking about him earlier. If I were to talk to him, I wouldn’t say anything to him.” She had that guilty look again that Lincoln was starting to wonder about.

“Of course. I was just not sure how much of what we talk about will go in your report,” he said.

The doc nodded almost absently, “I understand that.” She cleared her throat and went on. “I have no intention of telling them any of your deep dark secrets if that’s a concern. What we talk about is just between us. I don’t even let anyone else read my notes.”

He nodded a little himself. “I appreciate that.” There was an awkward moment. “I guess it’s for the best since Michael seems to not what me to talk about him to you.”

“Did he actually say that?” she asked sharply, almost sounding angry all of a sudden.

He was taken aback at the bite in her tone. What could he have possibly said that could have upset her so much? “He didn’t,” Lincoln answered slowly. “Did I say something wrong?”

She looked a little ashamed of herself. “Of course not. What did he say?” There was a mixture of eagerness and trepidation in her gaze as she sat there watching him.

He thought that one over. What exactly had Michael said? “He just wanted to know if I talk about him. That’s all. He didn’t really say anything.”

Usually she would have written that down, but the pen stayed clenched in her hand. “I guess that it might be difficult for him to think about, you talking about him. You guys are close, and I’m assuming that you know things about him that other people do not. What you could tell me, he might not want me to know.”

“Why would he care?” Lincoln couldn’t put his finger on why this conversation felt so much more complicated than it looked on the surface. There was something under the words she said that bothered him, even though he didn’t know what it was. It was almost like the feeling he had gotten after he’d last seen Michael. What was going on with the two of them? “He’s done all the talking about his feelings to strangers before. I would think that he’d be right on board.”

“I guess it’s different when you’re the one doing the talking,” she replied with a shrug. But it was obvious that was the answer she had chosen to tell him, not the real reason she had floating around her mind. “Have you thought to ask him what was wrong?”

A thousand times but asking was problematic. What if the answer was something his brother couldn’t say under the circumstances, something that couldn’t be overheard? “It’s difficult to talk to him sometimes. I always feel like I have to be careful not to upset him. Maybe that’s just a big brother thing. I spent so long taking care of him that it’s hard to turn off.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. You should try though, to talk to him. I know… or can guess at least that he wants to talk to you.”

Her words hit him curiously. Talking to her was becoming more and more like a puzzle that he wanted desperately to solve. Every word, every action adding up to a picture that was just out of his grasp. “I guess I can think about trying to talk to him,” he said after a significant pause. In fact, he imagined that he was going to be considering a lot of things now. “But I’m kind of tired. Can we pick this up another time?”

“Sure,” she said, closing the notebook that she still hadn’t used. “I can try to come by early next week, maybe Monday or Tuesday.”

He nodded. “Sounds good doc,” he said as she rose and walked over to the door.

He watched her go, uncertain what to make of the conversation they had had. Something was clearly going on with her, something that he had a feeling he did not want to know.

***

Sara collapsed against the wall with a sigh. It was always hardest when she saw Lincoln. No matter how much she tried to tell herself that she could keep the personal and the professional separate, everything with Michael was making it harder to treat his brother. Every conversation they had she was afraid would lead to him finding out about her and Michael. Especially since he had a way of cutting through the bullshit. If they kept on, Lincoln was bound to find out. Was it time to end it? She had lost count of the number of times she had sworn that she would never let herself give into her urges again, but her resolve would never stick. Every time she saw Michael, she couldn’t help herself. Even when they were apart she thought about him constantly. And that had always broke her resolve until she had just given in to them having whatever they had now. What else was she supposed to do? She could cut him physically out of her life, but she couldn’t control how she thought about him or the way he made her feel, both in and out of the bedroom. “You okay?” the guard beside her asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She looked over at him and considered what to say. “I’m just feeling a little under the weather. I think I’ll be fine.” After a moment to collect her thoughts, she began to make her way as far away from Lincoln Burrows as possible.

She wondered how she had ended up here. Why did the idea of giving Michael up hurt so much? As she walked back to her office her mind raced, asking the same burning question. Was she falling in love with Michael Scofield? No, couldn’t be. She barely knew him. Sara was almost totally sure that the only thing she loved about Michael was his cock. There was no debate that she was in love with that particular part of his body. If anything, she loved his cock a bit too much. There were moments when it was all she could think about, stroking it, sucking it, taking it from behind. She had found herself in some of the most unlikely situations thinking about something he had done to her once before, and it always ended up with her breaking her promise to never see him again. For the last three months, she had done nothing but swear to herself that nothing would ever happen again, but it always happened again. And again. And again. No matter how much she swore that it wouldn’t, it always happened again until she had given up swearing him off. But it had been a week now since she saw him. Maybe now she could give him up if she really tried. She tried to consider the possibility for a moment, but the only thing that came to mind was the memory of his lips wrapped around her nipple as he dicked into her slowly. The thought sent shock waves down her spine. It hadn’t been too long since she’d seen him, too long since he’d been inside of her. Something she knew needed to change very soon. With a sigh, she rounded the corner of the infirmary and saw Katie in the distance, no doubt eager to finish their conversation, a much less fun concept than what she wanted Michael to do to her.

***

Michael was just about to fell asleep when the phone ringing pulled him back to consciousness. “Hello,” he said groggily.

“Oh shit!” Sara said on the other end of the line. “I woke you up. I’m so sorry.”

The sound of her voice did far more to wake him up than his phone ever did. “No, I’m up,” he said, even sounding more alert. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” she said softly. “I just couldn’t sleep. You know, I’ve been thinking about you.” There was a playful note to her voice that got his attention. “When can I see you again?”

That was a question he had been asking himself for a week now. It had been too long. Every time they had tried to make plans to get together things had been getting in the way. Work kept getting in the way for him, long hours at the office taking up all his time. Then there was that one particularly thing that had come up right after their last meeting that ensured that doing whatever they wanted to together would be next to impossible. He had found it irksome, but he knew that was unfair to her. Not like it was her fault. Plus, she had been so cute trying to skirt around the issue when she’d told him, not quite able to say the necessary words to make her point plain. “So everything is all set then?” he asked carefully. This wasn’t a comfortable conversation to have. “You know, with your problem?” Was problem the right word? Or was that offensive? He wasn’t sure. But he’d said it already and couldn’t take it back.

There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “Michael Scofield are asking me if I’m still on my period?” she said with a laugh. “That’s adorable.”

“Well,” he muttered awkwardly. “That was why you didn’t want to get together before. Right?” He could feel himself getting red even though she couldn’t see him. “Forget I asked.”

She laughed again, only making him blush more. “No, it’s kind of cute actually. I didn’t realize that I was so explicit that you knew what I meant.” She chuckled softly for a moment. She hadn’t been really, but he was good at reading between the lines. “But to answer your question, yes everything is all good on that score. Has been for a while now. You’re the one who’s been too busy to see me.” That was what had happened. He hated that it had been so long. “Not that I don’t understand,” she added, “I know that what you’re working on is important. Still doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you. At least you left me with pleasant memories to tide me over at night.”

The mischievous note to her words got his attention. What exactly had she been doing before she’d called? “Glad to know you remember me fondly,” he said slowly.

“And do you remember me fondly?” she asked.

The memory of the look on her face as he got her off over and over again in the very bed he was lying in now popped into his mind. There weren’t words to describe just how fondly he remembered her. Just the thought could get him hard. “Nightly,” he whispered into the phone. Which was practically true given how often he had taken matters into his own hands at the thought of her. “But memories have never done you true justice he said. We should make more time for each other.”

“I agree. What about tomorrow night?”

He groaned at the idea. Suddenly he regretted his promise. “I can’t tomorrow,” he said reluctantly. “I promised Veronica that I would try to make nice with her fiancé. He wants to go out for drinks, and since I ditched him last time, I can’t really flake out again. Not without facing her wrath at least.”

The other end of the line was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke there was an odd quality to her voice that told Michael he had said something wrong. “Like Lincoln’s Veronica?”

He considered that for a second. “I’m guessing he hasn’t told you that she and I are friends,” he finally said. Her silence was answer enough. “We grew up together,” he said. “The three of us. We even lived with her family for a while after Mom died.” He paused, the reality of his words hitting him. “But that doesn’t matter now. The point is we’re friends, and she wants me to get to know this guy she’s marrying. That’s the kind of thing you do for friends.”

She was quiet again for so long he thought she wasn’t ever going to respond. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I get that. I guess I will just have to wait to see you after all. Though I don’t want to.”

He was glad that she was willing to let his small confession drop without much fanfare. That wasn’t something he was interested in unpacking this late in the evening. “What did you have in mind for tomorrow night if we could’ve gotten together?” he asked, steering the conversation back to much easier territory.

A small groan passed from her end of the line. “I just can’t stop thinking about last time. We should do that again.”

“Which part?” There had been so many things that had passed between them the last time he’d gotten her in his bed, many of which he wanted to do again.

“All of it,” she whispered into the phone. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that maybe she was embarrassed by her confession. “I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.”

He shifted a little on the bed, not sure whether or not that was a good thing. Erring on the side of caution he said, “I’m sorry that I bit you. I didn’t mean to.” And he really hadn’t. It was just something that kind of came over him as he reached his peak. “And you had already said that you were kind of sore and everything. I hurt you. I promise that I won’t do that again.”

She gave a little shocked gasp. “You know I had a mark for days after that.” She fell silent, the only sound from her end of the line her uneven breaths. “I kind of liked it,” she finally said, like it was something that she was a little afraid of confessing. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again, to be honest. When I saw it afterwards, I stood there in the mirror running my finger over it for forever, just remembering it and how that slight bit of pain and pushed me over the edge.” She chuckled softly. “Not that I wouldn’t have been okay without a fifth orgasm.”

Her words made him smile. “Five?” he inquired, not able to help himself. He had been so focused on the way she’d felt beneath him that he hadn’t counted the number of times he’d gotten her off. Never would have guessed it was that many.

“Five,” she repeated. She sounded breathless all of the sudden, like the memory was overwhelming. “I wish it wasn’t so late,” she added absently.

He groaned into the phone. If only they didn’t have work in the morning. “What about Saturday?” he asked. “I can come over early, and we can spend the day together. I can try to beat that record. Now that I think about it, five doesn’t sound like nearly enough.”

She gave a small laugh. “I have something to do Saturday morning, but after I will be more than happy to take you up on your offer.”

He groaned again, wishing that they were together again now. Waiting seemed like such a chore when he was this hard for her. “Saturday afternoon then,” he said, reaching down to cup himself in hopes that the pressure might help calm him down. It didn’t.

Sara groaned into the phone. “Seems far too long,” she whispered.

The breathlessness of her tone caught his attention. “What are you up to over there?” he asked, subconsciously rubbing himself through his boxers.

“Thinking about you and how I want your cock in my mouth.” She moaned softly at her own words. “I wish you were here to feel how wet I am.”

Damn it! That was the last thing he needed to hear at one in the morning when he needed to be up for work soon. “I could come over,” he groaned into the phone as his hand slid into his underwear and fisted his cock hard.

“Don’t tempt me,” she whispered. “I am just horny enough to take you up on that. I’ve been thinking of riding you all day long, about that look you always get as I first slide onto your cock.”

Michael found himself groaning into the phone. The hand on his cock was moving fast, not even trying to prolong this. “I don’t know if I can wait two days,” he said. “I need to be inside of you now.”

“Fuck,” she moaned. “This feels so much better being able to hear your voice.” She gasped softly into the phone, whatever she was doing to herself clearly working very well. “Will you touch yourself for me?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said, though his hand was already wrapped around his cock. If only he could be there to see her. “What are you doing? Do you have your fingers in your pussy?”

“No,” she said with a groan. “Tried. Not enough. Still not. My vibrator doesn’t feel as good as you. It can’t pin me down and fuck me slow until I want to scream.”

His balls clenched as she spoke. She’d never screamed for him before, something he dearly wanted to change now that she’d mentioned it. “You liked that?” he asked, his fist dragging along his cock slowly at the memory of their last time together. “Liked the torture of not knowing if or when I’d let you come?”

She moaned loudly. “So much. I’m close just thinking about it.”

He knew that he was close too, the thought of her working herself over the edge almost too much for him. “I want to see this some time, you getting yourself off. I bet you look so hot right now, legs spread, dripping pussy out on display. Tell me you’ll show me.” He sped up his hand again with a grunt. “And then I can lick up your release and make you come even more.”

“Shit baby,” she groaned. “I want that so bad.”

He was so close. Her uneven breaths on the other line and the thought of how she must look as she tried to get off combined together to make him jerk in his fist, his cock unable to stay still as he got himself off. “Fuck!” he groaned.

“Did you get off baby?” she whispered. “I bet you did and got come all over yourself too. If I was there I could lick it up, get you all clean again. I would too.”

He groaned at the thought, his cock too sensitive for his touch. “I don’t know if I can wait until Saturday,” he said.

“Just think how great it’ll be when we finally see each other again. We’ll have all that time to make up for the wait.” She was still panting slightly, like she was still working her pussy as they spoke.

“Tell me what you need sweetheart,” he said softly. “I’ll give you anything you want. Come Saturday you can have everything I have.” She answered with a soft groan. “I mean it. You won’t do anything but come when we see each other again.”

She gasped sharply into the phone, a delicious sound that made his cock twitch. He wished that he had seen it, been there to see the contented look on her face as the pleasure washed over her. “I’ll remember that,” she said, still sounding out of breath. “We should probably go to bed, get some sleep. Thanks for this.”

“Says the person who called me,” he teased. “Not that I’m complaining. The best ways I’ve been woken up have always involved getting off with you.”

She chuckled softly. “Good night Michael.”

“You too,” he said. “See you Saturday.” She gave a small little moan in response and then was gone again.

***

The guard shouting at him through the door came as something of a surprise. As far as he knew there wasn’t any reason for the visit. Lincoln rose off the bed to stand in front of the door. “Put your hands through the slot,” the officer said sharply.

Lincoln followed orders, just barely resisting the urge to question what was happening here. The handcuffs snapped onto his wrists, and he pulled his arms back, stepping away from the door. The c.o. standing on the other side when the cell opened was not one of his favorites, all the more reason to hold his tongue. “The doctor needs a word with you,” the man said.

In his head Lincoln tried to count the days. It was easy to lose track in solitary, especially since he wasn’t allowed out for work detail anymore, but he was pretty certain that it was Saturday. She had just come the day before, and as she left she had made it sound like it would be a few days before she would return to finish their conversation. Why would she have come in on the weekend to see him instead? “Is there a problem?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I dare say there are many problems with the situation, but the warden says to play along. That goes for you too.” He brandished the shackles threateningly, almost like he wanted an excuse to get rough with him, but Lincoln didn’t resist as they were put on him. “Your visitor will be along in a moment.” The guard left without a backward glance.

Lincoln scowled as the man slammed the cell door shut. Wasn’t the doc off on the weekends? He couldn’t figure out what would have caused the doc to come in specifically to see him. Sure, she had offered before, but he honestly hadn’t taken her at her word. Silently he tried to go over their last conversation to see if there was anything that he had said or done that might have upset her. She had gotten at least upset once, but had that been directed at him? It hadn’t seemed like it at the time. None of this made sense. Why was she here to see him now? His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the door hinges creaked as it swung open to reveal Dr. Tancredi. “This is unexpected,” he said for want of something better to say.

“I apologize for just dropping by like this,” she said as she stepped into the cell.

It was silent as the door closed behind her. Lincoln stood there staring at her disbelievingly for a long time. It seemed obvious as she stood there that she wasn’t even supposed to be here now. She didn’t look like she normally did, the clothes much nicer than anything he had ever seen her in before. He tried his best not to stare. “You look nice,” he said, unsure even as the words came out of his mouth if they were okay or not. He covered the possible mistake by rambling. “I wasn’t expecting that I’d see you so soon. You made it sound like you wouldn’t be back for a few days.”

Sara looked a little sheepish at that. “I had a little time this morning before a brunch I have to go to, and I was actually hoping that we could talk for a moment. Can I sit?” She pointed to the table behind him.

That still sounded off somehow. Even if she had some time, why would she choose to come speak to him now? Eventually he pushed the thought from his mind the best he could. There was an awkward moment that passed between them, and then he shrugged, moving out of her way the best he could. It was awkward to move, and they nearly ran into each other, the closest they had been to each other since the last time she’d taken his vitals. The chains rattled as he sat down on the bed. He wondered yet again what could have brought her here on a Saturday but decided not to ask. Instead he looked at her pointedly as she sat down at the table. She glanced at him awkwardly before beginning. “It occurred to me that we never really spoke about my suggestion that you see someone else. Yesterday, when I came it came up, but we never really discussed it. You just cut our meeting short rather suddenly, making me think that you were still upset about it. And I was… It has been bothering me lately. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be honest with me about how your feeling, even if those feeling are directed at me. All your questions about what I can and cannot repeat made me think that you might be holding back, and I just thought maybe we needed to clear the air.” She paused for a moment, picking at her nails. “So I came by to apologize. I was allowing some of my personal issues dictate the decision not to treat you anymore, and that wasn’t fair to you.”

“Personal issues,” he repeated. “What kind of personal issues?” The sharp look she shot him was answer enough. She had no intention of being specific.

There was a long moment where she just sat there staring at him. “The truth is that I have been wondering for some time if I was the right person to help you.” She shifted on the stool and took a deep breath. “I hoped that we might be able to find a replacement, that’s true. But I never intended to abandon you in the meantime. If that’s how you took it, I’m sorry. I have my own issues going on that do not involve you. I’m sorry if I let that affect this.” Sara chuckled darkly for a moment. “I just find it difficult to talk to you sometimes.” She glanced at him awkwardly for a moment.

That confession took him by surprise. So was she upset with him after all? He shifted around to look at her easier. “I don’t know what I said that offended you, but I’m sorry. I know that I came off a bit rough around the edges the first few times we talked, but I thought we were cool after that.”

The comment seemed to make her look uncomfortable. “It isn’t anything that you did. I’m just not sure that I am capable of being objective with you, and that is a problem for me. Which is unfortunate, because I’m pretty sure that I’m the best person to help you.” She looked down at her hands again.

“But you don’t want to?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped back up to look at him uncertainly. “No, I want to help you Lincoln, but that’s dangerous for me. It could lead me to a very dark place that I don’t want to go to again. But that’s selfish.” She frowned. “The truth is, I don’t know what to say to you. Everything is all mixed up for me right now.”

“You almost sound like you’re afraid that you’ll miss me when I’m gone,” he teased.

“Lincoln, there are a lot of people who will miss you when you’re gone.” The smile she gave him was sad. “And I’m going to be partly responsible for that. In the end, my own personal opinions don’t matter. I will have to play the part assigned to me.”

Those words hung heavy in the air. “One minute you’re telling me not to see you as part of the process and the next you’re reminding me that you’ll help flip the switch. You never can make up your mind.” He glanced away for a moment. “I don’t want to go. I’m sure that many people have said that before me, but there it is. But I guess that I don’t get a choice anymore. Right? Neither do you. We’re stuck in this dance whether we like it or not.” He paused and looked around awkwardly. “I like seeing you, talking to you. I don’t want to stop. See, I’m selfish too.” He gave her a weak smile. What was wrong with him? Here she was admitting that she was unsure that it was a good idea for her to treat him, and he was basically begging her to keep coming back. “I get it if you have to stop coming, I guess. Just promise me that if you don’t think you can come talk to me anymore that you’ll tell me, warn me before you send someone else. If you say we can’t talk, I’ll respect that, but I don’t want to have to spend the last few months of my life wondering where you are. It’s complicated. I know that I’m asking for something that you aren’t sure that you can give, but I just would rather it be you instead of someone else. I’m sorry. I know that it’s a lot to ask.” He glanced away from her, his thoughts so mixed up all of a sudden. Somehow he found it heartening that he wasn’t the only one that was struggling with this. “So much for keeping your personal and professional life separate Doc,” he added with a shake of his head and a small laugh.

“This has nothing to do with Michael,” she replied absently. “I just wanted to clear the air, so that we can move forward.”

“I can do that,” he said with a slight nod. “This is complicated. I can see that.” He paused for a long moment. “Thanks for coming to see me, to tell me all this.”

Sara nodded. “I’ll see you next week Lincoln.”

“Thanks,” he said.

She rose from her spot in the corner quickly and gathered up her things. Without another word she left him alone with his thoughts. He sat on the edge of the bed, turning over what she’d said. One point kept coming back to him over and over: when he’d joked about her mixing her personal and professional lives, the only thing she’d brought up was someone named Michael. Michael. He repeated the name in his mind. Was that the name of the guy who had given her the hickey? Probably. But Michael? Surely she hadn’t meant his brother Michael. Did she mean his brother? Or was this some other Michael? Maybe it was just a coincidence. He shook his head. Hopefully. It didn’t make any sense for it to be his brother. Michael and the doc didn’t know each other. But they had met, he remembered suddenly. ‘Michael didn’t tell you,’ that’s what she had said when he’d reacted to her name. But Michael didn’t know her name. When they’d spoken he’d asked about her and hadn’t known her name. He hadn’t. Lincoln was sure of it. None of this made any sense, but it was all he could think about. This whole thing seemed weird. There was something that just wasn’t adding up, and he intended to get to the bottom of it. As the guard came in to remove the shackles, Lincoln ran over all of it again, hoping to get some kind of clarity to the questions that plagued his mind. The same question ran over and over again in his mind. What the hell was going on?

***

Sara let out a sigh as she kicked off her heels. She had been dying to get home for the last hour. The campaign brunch had taken entirely too long, especially given how much she was looking forward to seeing Michael. They had agreed one o’clock, and now it was pushing two. In fact, she had been a little surprised that he wasn’t waiting for her when she got home. She had half expected he would be here. Maybe he had left when she still wasn’t home nearly an hour late. With a frown she pulled out her phone and texted him. “So Sorry. Things ran over, but I’m home now.”

All she could hope was that he was close by. It had been entirely too long since they had last seen each other, and their conversation the other night had not been nearly satisfying enough. She needed his hands on her more than anything else right now, the perfect way to push all of her concerns from her mind. Going to see Lincoln hadn’t gone nearly as well as she had planned. Not that she had done much planning on that score. Probably why it hadn’t gone off without a hitch like she had hoped. But at least she knew now that he wasn’t still upset with her about her moment of weakness when she’d suggested they bring in someone else. Now all she had to do was make sure that it stayed that way. If things could just continue going smoothly from now on, everything would be fine. The buzzer pulled her from her thoughts. So he had been close by. The day was looking up at last. She walked over and buzzed Michael in, all thoughts of Lincoln pushed from her mind for the time being.

Michael walked right through the front door she’d left unlocked for him as she was pulling off her coat. He gave an appreciative hum causing her to turn to face him. “You really didn’t need to get all dressed up for me,” he teased. “In fact you didn’t need to get dressed at all.” His eyes scanned over her body with interest, lingering for a significant amount of time on her breasts spilling out the top of her dress. “Though I have to say I like the dress. Is it new?” He asked the question casually, with a playful smile on his face.

Sara found herself shifting a little uncomfortably under his gaze. Something told her that his only real interest in her dress was what it would look like on the floor, but she answered him all the same. “Not new, you just never take me out.” She looked down at the dress in question. It was a deep burgundy, a dress she had worn during another time in her life, when she was pretending to be a much better daughter. She had lost track of how long it had hung in her closet since she wore it last. Probably the last time her father had drug her to some political function or other. It was her nice conservative politician’s daughter dress. At least she thought that it was, but as she had discovered when she finished zipping it up that morning, it had a much lower cut than she remembered. Absently she pulled the neckline up some, trying to hide the considerable cleavage on display. She had been doing that all morning, ever since it became apparently that she wouldn’t be allowed to keep her coat on at the table. The displeasure on her father’s face was still clear in her mind as she looked back up to find Michael still watching her intently. “What?” she asked sheepishly, a blush creeping over her face.

“You wore that to breakfast with your father?” he asked, clearly amused.

“And several important donors,” she added, still blushing. “I didn’t remember it looking like this.” Though it very well might have. Maybe she had gotten it backwards, and this dress was always meant to piss her father off. At least something good had come of it though. Michael was looking at her like he wanted to eat her alive. “Are you going to stand there staring at me all day?” she asked with a mischievous smile that was ruined somewhat by the red of her cheeks.

He sent her a mischievous smile of his own. “I have a very nice view,” he teased. “Why would I move?”

“If you come here, you’ll get to touch them too.”

He tilted his to the side, looking at her curiously. “That is a valid point,” he said but didn’t make a move from his spot a few feet away.

She sighed good naturedly, and went to walk over to him only to turn her body at the last moment and headed into the kitchen instead, her stocking feet sliding a little along the tile as she walked. The thud of his boots could be heard following close behind. Sara smiled to herself, careful not to look back at him. “Sorry that it took me so long to get home,” she said. “I thought that that meal would never end. Can I get you something?”

When she turned around at last it was to find him in the doorway, still looking at her with a hungry look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, continuing to watch her.

She had to look away to keep the color from rising in her cheeks again. Sure they had planned this, but somehow, she found that the idea that he was here in her apartment with the express intention of fucking her a little unnerving. She had no clue why. It was hardly their first time. The thought brought back the memory of the first time he had ever stood in her kitchen, and she had to struggle to keep from moaning out loud at the thought of his lips on her pussy. Was that why she had led him back to the kitchen, to have a repeat of that night? “Are you sure?” she asked. “I could make coffee.” The suggestion came out without her considering it, another callback to that evening. Had it really been nearly two months ago now? And yet he could still send chills up her spine simply by looking at her. “I’m going to need you to stop that,” she muttered, eyes focused on the stack of mail she had brought in with her.

She heard him move toward her, his shoes clanking against the kitchen floor as he walked. Before she was able to brace herself for having him in her bubble he pressed his lips to her neck. A soft groan escaped her. She could smell him, a mixture of pine and something else she could never quite place. The sensation sent another chill down her spine as his fingers dug into her hips. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning,” he whispered into her flesh. “And this dress is not helping to keep me a gentleman.” He bunched her dress up a little in his fists, his teeth nipping against her neck.

If she had been in her right mind she would have reminded him not to leave marks where they might be seen, but instead she only whispered, “Then don’t be.”

He groaned again, a hand slipping lower to run along her stocking coated thigh. “Why did you insist on wearing these?” he hissed.

“Because it’s cold outside,” she shot back. “But I’m not wearing anything beneath them.”

The growl he gave against her neck told her exactly how he felt about that confession. His fingers bit into her thigh, likely leaving a mark of their own. “You should take these off yourself if you want to keep them,” he whispered in her ear.

As much as the thought of him ripping them off of her sent a wave of excitement through her, she was glad he gave her a warning before he simply did so. There were a lot of guys she had dated that wouldn’t have been so considerate, and this particular pair had been somewhat expensive. Not wanting to keep him waiting, she reached beneath her dress and began rolling the tights down her legs. His hands held her hips steady as she struggled to step out of them. He hummed in approval once she had finished. “Better baby?” she asked, as his lips ghosted along the shell of her ear.

“Much,” he replied, his teeth scrapping across her skin, giving her just enough pain to excite her but not enough to really hurt. His hand slid between her thighs, not even in the mood for teasing. “Tell me you’ve missed this,” he said, fingers ghosting over her mound. She gave a small moan as they slid lower, encountering her folds. “Well, you certainly missed me some,” he whispered as he pulled his fingers away wet.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and froze, He had his fingers in his mouth, working to lick her juices off of them. The look on his face was one of the most contented expressions she had ever seen. She gasped slightly. If she hadn’t already been wet before, that sight alone would have done the trick. “I need you to fuck me,” she said, pulling his hand away from his mouth to direct it between her thighs again.

“So impatient,” he teased, but he slid his fingers into her regardless.

Sara hadn’t realized just how much she had wanted him until he was hooking his fingers inside of her, looking for that spot that always made her feel so good. A soft gasp fell from her lips as he found it. Her hips sunk down lower, trying to pull his fingers even deeper. It felt good, but she need more and needed it without delay. “Enough,” she groaned. He had barely touched her, and yet she knew that she couldn’t wait. “Please,” she begged, “No teasing this time around.”

Michael groaned against her neck as he pulled his fingers out. She felt so empty without them, but she knew that if she just waited a moment she would be filled with something much better. Her hand slid across the counter, searching blindly for the bag she’d brought up with her. A soft rustling told her she had found it, and she dug around until she found the box of condoms, pulling it out for him. A soft chuckle escaped him as he saw what she was trying to give him. “You got the big box,” he said with a laugh.

“I wanted to be prepared. You did say that you wouldn’t leave until I was fully satisfied after all.” She turned to look at him again, a coy look on her face.

He laughed again as he took the box from her, ripping it open to pull out one of the foil packets. She turned back around and pulled her dress up out of the way, wanting to be ready whenever he was. It only took a moment before he was pushing her down against the counter. “You look so good like this,” he whispered, his hand running through her folds again.

She groaned softly, hoping that he wasn’t going to tease her after all. Her fears were almost instantly alieved as he lined himself up and thrust into her harshly. A strangled cry fell from her lips. She was quick to whisper, “Don’t stop,” just in case he had any ideas that he had hurt her.

His hips slammed into her fast, driving his cock deep inside of her. It had been far too long since she had felt this way. How many times had she tried to recreate this feeling in the week or more since the last time he was inside of her? She had lost count. There were so many things that she imagined she would say to him, so many ways she had thought to beg him, but now that he was here and actually inside of her, all she could do was groan. She needed to get off, needed to release all the tension that had built up inside of her in his absence. “Harder,” she finally managed to get out.

With a deep grunt he gave her what she’d asked from, slamming their hips together as hard as he could. The echo of their bodies coming together was the best sound Sara had ever heard in her life. It was all she wanted to hear for the rest of the day. His fingers were digging into her hips as he pulled her back and forth on his cock. She let him guide the movement of their bodies, her forehead dropping down onto the counter. “Can I…” she began in a whisper. “May I touch my clit? Please baby? I need it.”

He groaned at the question, his own hand slipping between her parted thighs to rub her in time with the joining of their hips. She moaned loudly. “Thank you baby,” she just barely got out, her walls already starting to milk him.

He moaned too, obviously affected by the way her pussy was gipping him. It made her hopeful that he would let her come soon. She needed it so bad. “Michael,” she groaned, wanting more than anything to take him over the edge with her.

A soft groan was the only response that she got from him. The fingers along her clit were rubbing hard, clearly trying to speed up her orgasm. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire again, and all she was able to do was send her moans into the counter pressed against her face. This wasn’t what she had pictured when she imagined getting to be with him again, but she was a fan regardless. He was going to have to bend her over and fuck her like this more often. The thought was all she could think of as he groaned loudly, his cock jerking inside her. She moaned softly, her walls milking him as he came. A few more passes over her clit and she was falling over the edge after him.

He panted loudly as he pulled out of her. The aftershocks were still shooting through her as he left her standing there with her head pressed against the counter, trying to regain some feeling in her legs. It was only a moment before he was returning again, his hands circling her hips. “You okay sweetheart?” he asked softly. She struggled to catch her breath, her body still coming down from the high he had driven her to. It was hard not keep upright as he pulled her back into his arms. “You look like you could use a nap,” he said softly.

She groaned, her head falling against his chest. A nap did sound nice. As much as she wanted him to ravage her body properly before he left again, every muscle in her body suddenly seemed exhausted. “Am I allowed to nap?” she asked cautiously. The last thing she wanted was to ruin their plans by sleeping the afternoon away.

“Of course you can take a nap,” he said with a soft kiss to her temple. “We can take a nap together.”

She hummed contently as he steered them toward her bedroom. Her legs barely managed to carry her even that far, and the second they had gotten close enough, she collapsed face first onto the bed. He chuckled softly. “Don’t you think it would be more comfortable without the dress?”

Her voice was muffled by the comforter as she spoke. “You just say that because you want to get me naked.”

“I will admit that it will make it easier to have my way with you later on,” he said teasingly.

Before she could think of a response to that his hands were on her back, pulling the zipper of her dress down. It took all the energy she had left to lift her hips enough to let him pull the dress off of her body. With a contented sigh she rolled over, just barely managing to crawl under the covers. By the time she had made it he was already beginning to strip off his own clothes until he was standing there in nothing but his underwear. He watched her curiously from the end of the bed as she reach behind her to unhook her bra and let her breasts spring free. She hissed slightly, her breasts a little sore from the tightness of her bra. His eyes looked hungry again as he watched them bounce a little, and she found herself a little afraid that he wasn’t going to let her sleep after all. Still, she couldn’t help herself from holding out her hand to him. “Are you going to join me or not?” she asked.

He smiled at her softly and pushed the boxer briefs down his thighs. Her eyes followed his soft cock as it sprung free. Even flaccid he was intimidating. Her walls twitched at the memory of what he had felt like inside of her, but exhaustion won out in the end. She moved over enough to give him room to crawl under the covers with her and sighed contently as he took the invitation. The second he was in bed with her she laid her head on his chest and smiled, fingers ghosting over the lines of his tattoo. Not for the first time since she’d first seen it she found herself wanting to ask about it, but she held her tongue. He had made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it yet, and she had to respect his wishes. Still, she found that it fascinated her all the same, her fingers tracing the lines ceaselessly. Her movements were interrupted suddenly by his hand against her breast. “We can’t do much sleeping if you’re playing with my boobs,” she teased.

“Sorry,” he replied as she rolled onto her back involuntarily. Despite his words his thumb continued to circle her nipple faintly. The sparks it sent through her were not helping matters at all. Without warning he dived down, taking her nipple in his mouth. She hissed sharply as his tongue brushed over the sensitive nub. But just as it was starting to feel really good he pulled away with a sheepish grin. “Sorry,” he said again, “I couldn’t help myself. But you wanted to take a nap right?”

She groaned softly. If it wasn’t for the fact that every muscle in her body ached, she would have made him continue. “You’re going to finish that when we wake up,” she whispered as she laid back on his chest.

“Oh I imagine that won’t be a problem,” he whispered back even as she was already starting to drift off.

***

Lincoln paced back and forth across his cell. It was approximately ten steps from the wall to the door. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Turn around. Repeat. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Turn around. Repeat. He had lost count of the number of times he had walked the length of the room when the officer yelled through the door. “You going to take your food or pace all day?”

Lincoln turned around and saw that Louis Patterson was attempting to shove a tray of food through the slot in the door. He walked the four steps that were between him and the door to grab the tray. An idea came to him as his hands closed around the cold metal. “You think I can make a call tonight?” he asked on sudden impulse. Usually he wouldn’t have even voiced the thought, but Louis was usually pretty cool.

“You on the schedule?” the guard asked though he most likely knew the answer already.

“I’ll be quick. I just need to talk to my brother.” Lincoln wondered if he should elaborate further, but decided against it. The guards tended to get unhelpful when you started to go on about rights and privileges, and he really wanted to talk to Michael. “I haven’t used the phone any this week,” he added after some thought.

“I can’t take you now,” Louis said after a moment. “But you keep quiet, and I’ll put you on the list. Don’t get ideas about making this a habit Linc.”

“You got it boss.”

Lincoln waited until the c.o. let go of the tray and pulled what was to serve as dinner through the slot in the door. He picked at it for a while and thought over what he was going to say to his brother once he got the chance to speak to him. The last words that the doctor had said to him rattled around in his head. Obviously there was something going on he wasn’t aware of. As he sat there he tried to remember if there was anything that he had noticed from the last time Michael had come to visit. Nothing instantly came to mind other than his recent weirdness, but there had to be something that Lincoln was missing. Every look, every comment played over and over in his head as he sat there and waited. The time passed slowly as he played it all over in his head. He had no idea how long it would take before Patterson returned to take him to the phone at the end of the hall. But in that time he was determined to piece things together.

***

It was getting late. Michael looked at the clock on the wall to find it was even later than he had thought. At least he had sent Lola home hours ago. He sighed loudly, trying to get the crick out of his neck that he had seemed to have all day long. At the rate he was going, he was never going to get this project done in time. He only had until the end of the month when he needed to turn his focus toward Lincoln. There wasn’t any more time left to review the plan. It was now or never if he wanted to save his brother. He had made his choice, and the free nights he might have had otherwise were suffering for it. In the end, once Lincoln was free, it would all be worth it. He sighed loudly, leaning back in his chair for a moment to consider the best way to try and tackle the current problem with the project. If he could just figure it out, he could go home for the night and maybe get some sleep. His eyes had barely closed when a sharp rapping on the glass got his attention. He opened his eyes to find Sara standing there smiling faintly, her hand raised to wave at him. Yet another thing that he was going to lose at the end of the month. He waved her in, shock all over his face. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, motioning toward the plans spread over the top of his desk.

“Oh, I know,” she said. “I just missed you. Plus, I knew you were working late and thought you might appreciate some food.” She held up a bag and smiled as she passed it over.

The gesture took him a little by surprise. Bringing him food at the office when he was working late was the kind of thing that a girlfriend might do, and they had agreed that they weren’t a couple. Hadn’t they? It had been in this very office only a month ago, but suddenly he couldn’t remember what exactly they had agreed to. “Thanks,” he said, as a way to cover his confusion. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

She shrugged. “It was a convenient excuse to come see you,” she admitted.

Michael nodded. “Glad to know that you missed me,” he said. It was good to see her even if it was only for a moment. “How was dinner with your father?”

She scowled heavily. “The usual. He brought along the chief of some hospital for me to meet.”

That was surprising. “I didn’t know that you were thinking of leaving Fox River.” He made sure to keep his voice even, to not give her any hint that he had an investment in her current job prospects. “How long have you been considering it?”

“I haven’t been,” she replied with another sour look. “My father has been planning it for years, pretty much since I took the job. It doesn’t look good for me to work there, you see.” He nodded, not really sure what he was supposed to say to that. Instead he looked in the bag she’d brought him. “I wasn’t really sure what you’d want,” she admitted sheepishly. “It occurred to me as I was ordering that we don’t really eat together a whole lot.”

“No, this is fine,” he said, setting the bag aside. “Thanks for thinking of me.” He racked his brain for something to say. Now that she was here, he was glad of the distraction. “Do you have to rush off?” he finally asked.

She shook her head. “I can stay for a moment if I won’t be interrupting anything.” Her eyes flicked to the plans that littered his desk. “Where’s your assistant? I half expected her to still be on guard as I was walking up.”

He followed her eyes to the empty desk on the other side of the glass. “I sent her home a couple of hours ago. There was no reason for her to sit around watching me work.” He shot her a teasing smile. “And I hardly expected someone to just pop in after all.”

Sara smirked back at him. “If you want me to go…” The words came out of her mouth, but she made no move to leave. “You know,” she said after a long moment. “The last time I was here I found it very inconvenient that your office has glass walls.”

He chuckled knowingly. “I know the feeling. All I could think about was bending you over my desk. Lola would have really enjoyed grilling me about that one. She had enough questions about you as it was.”

The words caused Sara to turn back to him sharply. There was a wild look in her eyes that he wasn’t quite able to read. If he hadn’t know better he would have thought that it was jealousy, but again, they weren’t really together for her to get jealous. “It’s a pity that she isn’t here then. I’m sure she would have just loved some strange woman bringing you food in the middle of the night.”

He cleared his throat. “It would lead to some questions considering that she thinks the extent of our relationship is that you work at the prison. I told her that you had wanted to talk about Lincoln.”

That confession made her look at him even more curiously. “She knows about Lincoln?” There was an edge to her voice that it was hard to mistake.

“Well, she can hardly fail to notice that I disappear at the same time on the exact same day every week,” he tried to explain. The explanation did little to ease the tension in her shoulders. “You don’t think that I’m sleeping with her do you?” he asked with an amused smile on his face.

“Of course not,” she said with a light scoff. “Even if you were, we never agreed that we would be exclusive.” The way she said it exclusivity had been implied.

He had to work to be serious, suspecting that she would not be amused if he started laughing. “I promise,” he said, “There is no one else, and even if there were, it wouldn’t be Lola.” She looked a little more at ease. He wasn’t really sure why he was going to so much trouble to comfort her. It wouldn’t be that much longer and things would be over between them. That realization did nothing to keep him from holding out a hand to her. “Come here,” he said softly.

After a moment she took him up on the offer, walking over to the desk until she was close enough to grab his hand and squeeze it gently. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset,” she said quietly. “I have no right to ask you for things that weren’t a part of the deal. We aren’t a couple after all.”

“Do you want to be?” the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

She turned to him, an uncertain look on her face. “And how would that work?” she asked. “We just pretend that I’m not about to help kill your only brother?” She dropped his hand suddenly and gazed off into the distance with a frown.

Michael knew that this was the perfect opportunity to end things. Send her on her way now, and it would be far less difficult to do what needed to be done. But for some reason the knowledge that was in his head and the words willing to come out of his mouth were two entirely different things. “Hey,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her towards him again. “This isn’t about Lincoln. It’s about you and me. We could be more, have more than just sex.”

She glanced at him reluctantly. The look in her eyes seemed conflicted. “I don’t know that it’s that easy,” she started to say before the rest of her speech was interrupted by the phone.

With a scowl Michael picked up the phone. Who on earth would be calling him at the office so late? The second he heard the voice on the other end he glanced up at her guiltily. “Lincoln,” he said, setting the phone back down. “He’s going to call my cell here in a minute.”

“Right,” she said with a small nod. “I’ll just get going then.” She lingered for a moment before leaning down to kiss him softly. “Maybe next time I visit you’ll be able to bend me over your desk after all,” she whispered. And then she was gone, the glass door swinging shut just as Michael’s cell phone rang.

***

Lincoln stuck his hands through the slot in the door so the guard could cuff him then took a half step back before the door opened. It was a long walk to the phone and not one that he made often. The only people he really had to call were Michael and LJ, and neither one of them were easy to get on the phone. LJ wasn’t keen to talk to him in general, and Michael often worked late. In fact, as he stood in front of the phone, Lincoln wondered if he should try to call him at work first. It was a system that they had developed over the years when Lincoln really needed to talk. Obviously Michael couldn’t accept a collect call from the prison on his work phone, but if Lincoln needed to get a hold of him, he would call the work phone first to warn Michael that he was about to call him on his cell. After a moment of deliberation, he dialed the number to Michael’s office just in case. When the automated system asked for his name he said, “It’s your brother, pick up your cell,” then hung up the phone before Michael could decline the charges.

He repeated the process a second time with a different number and waited to be connected. “You work too much,” he said by way of greeting once he heard the click letting him know that his brother had picked up the phone.

“I’m working on a big project and needed to stay late.” There was something in his brother’s voice that was difficult to read.

“It’s a Friday night.”

There was a light huff on the other end of the phone. “Some people realize that they have to work long hours from time to time to get noticed by the boss,” Michael countered playfully.

“Oh I was more than skilled at being noticed at work.” Lincoln chuckled a little at his joke.

“Positively. You have to strive to get noticed positively. That was always the part that you struggled with.” His brother paused suddenly and sighed. “What’s going on?” The undercurrent of concern was clear as Michael spoke.

It occurred to Lincoln suddenly that the last time they had spoken on the phone like this had been when he had called to say that he’d lost his last appeal. Other than that, they had arranged for Lincoln to call him on a certain day and time to be sure Michael could answer. His methods seemed a little extreme under the circumstances. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to my baby brother,” he said, trying to keep the conversation light. He could picture the expression on his brother’s face at his words. It was now or never if he wanted answers to the questions plaguing him. He cleared his throat and just asked. “I have kind of an odd question. You been talking to the doc?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Now all of the sudden you’re concerned about my mental health. I thought you didn’t approve of therapy, said it was a waste of my time. And money. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft on me, started wanting to talk about your feelings.” Michael laughed, like it was a joke, like Lincoln hadn’t spent his entire childhood trying to keep him from having a nervous breakdown.

Lincoln rolled his eyes though he knew that Michael couldn’t see him. Now was not the time to dredge all of that up though. “I’ve been talking about my feelings plenty.”

Michael scoffed lightly. “That doesn’t count. You’re being forced to do that. Not that I disagree. Talking might help you, but it still wasn’t your idea. Plus, I’ve seen the doctor at Fox River, hardly an inconvenience for you to have to talk to her.” Michael laughed softly on the other end of the line.

Lincoln clung to the statement like it was a confession. “So you admit that you’ve been talking to her?”

“What?” Michael asked. “You’re not making any sense. You call out of the blue and start questioning me about going to a shrink, and now you’re going on about the prison doctor. Did something happen?” If only Lincoln had been able to see him. It was always so much easier to realize when his brother was hiding something if they were face to face.

“You tell me,” Lincoln said. “I just want to know what you said to her.”

There was a long silence. “Did she say something?” His brother sounded wary as he spoke.

Lincoln glanced behind him to where Patterson stood, waiting for him to wrap up his call. “Look, I need to know what happened. All of a sudden she’s going on about how she’s not sure that she can continue to come see me. Talking about pawning me off on someone else. I know that she saw you a couple months ago, but she seemed fine. Have you been in contact with her since then? It’s not like you to talk shit, but you must have told her something that upset her. She mentioned you when she said she couldn’t come see me anymore.” He decided to leave out the other questions her confession raised. They were crazy anyway. Surely it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Michael wouldn’t have done something like that anyway.

Lincoln was waiting a long time before his brother responded. “That doesn’t have anything to do with you.” There was a very careful note to Michael’s voice; it was obvious that he was hiding something. “I thought that was all solved. But hey, look, I can talk to her, try to see if there is a way to fix this.”

The words sunk in slowly as Lincoln stood in the drafty hallway clutching the phone to his ear. He kept repeating to himself over and over again that his brother wouldn’t have done something so stupid. He was too smart, too good for that. “Michael,” he said slowly, “tell me you didn’t do something that I would do.” There was a very loaded lack of response. “Because I was joking about that. I would have never… You know that I… Damn it Michael!” He laughed a little disbelievingly and shook his head. “Just stay away from her. I’ll talk to her.”

“Look Linc,” Michael started to say.

“No, don’t worry about it. Like I said, something I would do.” He glanced to where Patterson was standing. “I got to go. Love you little brother.”

“Love you too,” Michael replied before Lincoln put down the phone.

“Thanks for that,” Lincoln said as the guard walked over to him.

Patterson shrugged before grabbing Lincoln’s arm to direct him back down the hall. When they got back to the cell he paused before closing the door. ‘Everything alright Linc?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Lincoln replied almost automatically. He thought over it for a moment before continuing. “Apparently the doc had sex with my brother.”

Patterson shook his head disbelievingly. “He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to. I’ve known Michael his whole life; I can always tell when he’s guilty of something.” Lincoln shrugged and waited for the guard to shut the door and leave him alone with his thoughts. It wasn’t like his brother to be so stupid. How was he supposed to talk to her now?

***

The knock on the door startled Sara out of her reverie. It had been a long day, but she was determined to make it just a few more hours to at least do part of her share of the filing. Katie had been carrying her since the project started, and as much as she appreciated it, Sara knew that she needed to at least pitch in somewhat. It was supposed to be a simple task that she could do while keeping an ear out for any issues. But in the end, sorting through the prison medical files had proven mind numbing, and she had allowed herself to get lost in thought. The sudden return of noise to the soundless room had her heart racing. She turned toward the door to find Louis Patterson standing on the other side. He didn’t seem agitated as she walked over to let him into the room, but his appearance unnerved her all the same. “Do you need me?” she asked once the barrier between them was removed. She looked around behind him wondering if one of the inmates had taken ill or something, but no one else appeared to be with him. “Is someone sick?”

“No,” he replied. “I was wondering if we could talk for a minute.”

Puzzled Sara stepped aside to let the guard into the room. She had always had a pretty good relationship with Patterson, but it wasn’t exactly usual for him to stop by her office after hours just to chat. “Everything okay?”

Louis looked briefly at the chair piled high with files before focusing on a spot on the wall near her head. “I heard that you aren’t going to be treating Linc anymore,” he said.

The pronouncement gave her pause. It was true that word spread fast around Fox River, but the rumor came out of nowhere. “I don’t know where you heard that,” she said quietly. “Lincoln and I discussed maybe bringing someone else, but that’s as far as the conversation went. Who told you?”

“Lincoln.” He shifted his weight a little. “I overheard him speaking with his brother last Friday night. He seemed to think that maybe his brother had mentioned something to you that caused the sudden change of heart.” There was a loaded pause. “After they talked though, Linc seemed under the impression that his brother may have had sex with you.”

The words caught her off guard. “What?” she asked. She knew that Lincoln had called him, but she hadn’t thought about it much after she left. And Michael hadn’t mentioned anything either. Granted, he had been radio silent in the days since the phone call had taken place, but he was busy. She hadn’t thought anything of that either. Why would Michael have told Lincoln after he was the one that insisted his brother could never know? She was sure that she looked guilty as she stood their dumfounded.

Louis flicked his eyes to her briefly. “You know that I’m not one to judge, and it certainly isn’t any of my business. I just thought I should come by and…” He struggled for words. “Look, I really think that Lincoln looks forward to seeing you; I think that you’ve helped him a lot. I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize that.”

Sara sighed loudly. “But you’re not judging.”

He flashed her an amused smile. “Don’t get me wrong, not my type, but I’ve seen the brother. I could see the appeal for some people. Maybe not advisable but it doesn’t have to impact your work.” Suddenly he looked even more uncomfortable. “Unless it’s an ongoing thing.”

“It’s not.” She hoped he couldn’t tell that that was obviously a lie.

“Then what’s the problem?” He left her standing in her office to think over what he’d said.

Her eyes flicked to the black notebook that was buried under the mess of files on her desk. She was supposed to see Lincoln in two days, and she had no idea how she was going to do that if he knew about her and Michael. It had been three days since she’d last seen Michael. Why hadn’t he said something to her? A small groan escaped her at the thought as she fished out her phone and sent a quick text to Michael. “Lincoln knows???” She waited for a long moment, but no response came.

***

The doc took her usual seat at the table, facing where Lincoln sat on the bed. Other than the usual pleasantries she hadn’t spoken much since her arrival. The guard had left them alone several minutes ago, but all she had done since then was jot down her thoughts into the notebook she always brought with her. Lincoln was unsure if he was supposed to be the one to start or not. They had been doing this for four months now, and he was pretty sure with this new piece of information that he had come to know her tells. When she was moody and withdrawn like this it must mean something to do with Michael. He had thought about it a lot in the days since he had found out, and all the pieces fit together. Maybe he hadn’t gotten all the detail down, but there was one thing he was sure of, whatever was happening between her and Michael was on going. They hadn’t just slept together once, of that he was sure. But why? He wanted so much to ask. But as far as he could tell she didn’t know that he knew, so he was determined not to comment on it.

Lincoln sighed quietly to himself but still didn’t start the conversation. There was a format to their meetings, and it was generally his place to wait for her to start in with her questions. Today the questions didn’t seem to be forthcoming, and the silence was getting deafening. One of them was going to have to say something soon. To his surprise it was actually Sara who at last broke the silence. “Do you have anything that you want to talk about today?”

A number of things came to mind, all of them involving whatever she was doing with his brother, but he knew that he wouldn’t voice any of them. All he could think to do was shrug. “You’ll have to do the driving today Doc,” he added teasingly.

Sara watched him for a moment before turning back to her notes, flipping through the pages to find a topic to focus on. From the frown on her face, it appeared she wasn’t having much luck. Finally she abandoned her search and looked up at him uncertainly. “I’m not really sure that I have anything particular that I need to know. There’s really nothing that you want to talk about? What about LJ? Is he still coming to see you?”

“Not by choice.” He shrugged, not willing to give her much to work.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Have you ever considered that maybe he does want to see you?” The question hung in the air. “You’re his father. That’s not an easy relationship to sever. He’s angry at the moment, but you said before that he’s been staying out of trouble lately. Maybe seeing you helps him. Do you think it would have helped you to see your own father when you were his age, if only to tell him off?”

He had to really think about that one. “I guess. Not that it matters much. I’ll never see the man again.”

She nodded, making a quick note of what he had said. “That must have hurt though, growing up without a father. Especially since your mother was so much closer to your brother.”

The mention of Michael had an effect on both of them. He watched as she shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “What are you doing?” he asked before he could stop himself.

It was clear that she knew what he meant by the way she ignored the question. “Have you ever thought to find him?” she asked instead.

Her refusal to answer his question made him angrier than he had been in a while. “My deadbeat dad? No. But you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing with my brother?”

She sighed deeply. “Nothing.”

He knew that she was lying but had no choice but to let the matter lie. “Fine then,” he said. “I guess there isn’t anything for us to talk about after all.” He gave her a sharp look. “Just tell him that I know what he’s doing, and that I told him to stop. Months ago. I thought that I had made myself perfectly clear, but apparently he wasn’t listening. Just tell him that.”

The look she gave him was impossible to read. “You’ll have to relay that message yourself. Nothing is going on between me and Michael. There was something, but we ended it.”

There was something about the way she said it that told him she wasn’t being entirely truthful. He could tell that she had said that particular mantra before and probably even meant it at the time. “Don’t fall in love with him,” Lincoln told her. Before she could open her mouth to speak he went on. “Just do yourself that favor at least.” He found himself clenching his jaw, trying to keep all the cruel things he wanted to say in. “I don’t feel like talking to you anymore,” he said instead. “I’d like you to leave.”

She scoffed but let the Matter drop. “I’ll see you next week. Maybe you’ll actually have something to say then.”

With that she left him alone with his thoughts. It had been nearly a week since he had found out about her and Michael, and he was no closer to accepting it than he had been. Surely his brother wasn’t as callous as he seemed. He never would have imagined Michael doing something like this, but the facts seemed to point that way. Had he really been that desperate? Or just that stupid? “I’ve seen the doctor,” he’d said. Was Michael just into her and hadn’t considered things before he’d acted? Lincoln couldn’t really fault him if that was the case, but it was still hard for him to sit in the same room as the doc and open up to her. “I would never tell Michael,” she had said that countless times, but deep down, Lincoln found it difficult to believe her. How was this going to work now? He asked himself the question over and over again, but each time an answer failed to come.

***

Sara awoke on Saturday morning, and the first thing she did was look at her phone. She had been reading the message he had sent her over and over again since it had arrived. It had been the out that she needed, an excuse to walk away, but she knew that she couldn’t let Michael get away so easily. Especially with Lincoln so upset with her, she needed to not lose Michael too. She hated that the thought of never seeing him again affected her so much, but it was long past the point where she could deny it. Whether it was a good idea or not, she wanted to do this. She needed to be with him. They could explain things to Lincoln. Hopefully he would understand, and if he didn’t, she could find someone else to help him. It could be that simple, right? Before she could talk herself out of it, she drove over to Michael’s apartment, hoping he was home.

Michael didn’t answer until after she had rung the buzzer several times. Her nerves were frayed by the time she had finally been allowed into the building and made her way up to his floor. What if he had just let her in because he was tired of the ringing? The thought haunted her as she reached up to knock on his apartment door. When the door swung up it became obvious that he had just gotten out of the shower. She took in the man standing before her with only a towel around his waist. Seeing him made her heart skip in a way that felt both nice and uncomfortable at the same time. She knew that was going to make staying focused difficult, but she pushed forward anyway. This was what she wanted. She shook her head, trying to remind herself of why she had come. “Sorry for just dropping by,” she said carefully. “Can I come in?” Can you put some clothes on so I can maybe resist the urge to jump your bones, she added in her head as he stepped to the side to let her into the apartment.

He glanced at her awkwardly. It had been a week since they had last seen each other with scarcely a word between them in that time. It was heartening to know that she was not the only one struggling with how to go on from here. “Sorry if you were ringing for a while,” he said sheepishly. “I was in the shower.”

“I figured,” she muttered, giving him the once over out of the corner of her eye. He was even hotter in daylight, and it wasn’t fair. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve wanted to talk to you for days actually, but I could never find the words to say. I’m not very good at this, whatever this is. But I felt like we should maybe try.”

“Lincoln knows,” he said carefully.

“He does,” she said after much thought. “But we started to have a conversation before he called that I thought we should finish.” She instantly regretted saying that. Coming here suddenly seemed like such a bad idea now that she was here. He was going to make her have feelings wasn’t he? She just knew it; he would say something sweet and she’d fall madly in love with him. Who was she kidding? If she looked deep inside herself honestly, she was already in love with him. She needed to get out while she still had some ability to do so. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

He smiled and shook his head. “One step forward, ten steps back. I told you when I texted that I got it. Now that Lincoln knows everything is different. You can’t continue treating him if you’re seeing me, and I respect that you have to choose him.”

She sighed heavily. “Look, I admit that maybe this, us, hasn’t come at the best time, but you... I don’t want you to just walk out of my life.”

“And that bothers you?” There was an edge to his voice that scared her, like he was fishing for something. But his look was kind, almost hopeful.

The words caught in her throat. “Of course it bothers me. But I can’t fall in love with you. Aside from the fact that it’s dangerous, your brother told me not to.” She looked at him sheepishly. This was hard to talk about. “That’s saying something since he spends all his time talking about how he wants you to meet someone, but clearly that someone can’t be me. So why do I want it to be me?” She said the last part as a whisper, a confession she did not want to make. “I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t want to be here. But here I am.”

He watched her for a second before moving a little closer to her. She could feel the heat coming off his skin as she reached up to cup his face with one of her hands for a moment. Touching him made it so much harder to walk away, something she realized she needed to do. She was in far deeper than she’d known even as she was driving over here. “Then why are you here Sara?” he asked softly. “I thought you weren’t going to be that woman. Isn’t that what you’ve always said? Just sex, no feelings.”

Their mouths were so close they were practically touching. She could walk away now and everything would be fine. Just walk away and take his offer to end things. But she didn’t want that. “You know what I need,” she whispered instead, her other hand reaching down between them to unwind the towel around his waist. “No one else makes me feel good like you,” she added as her fist wrapped around his bare cock.

“Fuck!” he groaned as she began stroking him. Their lips pressed together, tongues instantly trying to fight for dominance.

She wrapped her arm around his neck, holding him closer as she worked him with her fist. There was no way that she wanted to have to give this up, to give him up, especially not yet. They still had time before they had to figure out how to navigate his brother’s death. That was for later, and she just wanted to focus on the right now while they still could. All she wanted was to have him inside her as quickly as possible. She never needed to say that to him though. Michael had a way of knowing what she needed before she had the chance to speak. He pulled out of her grasp without a word and left her in the entryway of his apartment. She knew that she was supposed to follow him.

When she found him he was standing in the living room digging around in the end table. At last he managed to fish out a condom and turned to look at her. “A little over dressed don’t you think?”

She was quick to kick off her shoes and strip off all the clothes she had thrown on merely to come over here. There was an odd look in his eyes as he watched her undress, part hunger, part uncertainty. She wondered as she undressed how this was going to go. Would he tease her, leave her a dripping mess before he finally gave her a sweet release. That almost sounded nice as she pushed her underwear down her hips to bare herself to him at last. That last article of her clothing had barely hit the floor before he grabbed her hips and bent her over the back of the couch. “Shit!” she groaned as he entered her without warning.

The stretch was torture, but she didn’t want him to stop. Though she hadn’t considered it would be like this, somehow it seemed to be exactly what her body at wanted. The sound of their hips slapping together filled the room in almost perfect unison to the gasps he was forcing out of her with each thrust. He’d never been this rough with her before, not even when he’d pinned her hands above her head, but in the moment she liked it, wanted him to go harder. She dug her fingers into the fabric beneath her as his fingers gripped her hips tightly, leaving bruises behind. Her pussy was clamping around his cock tightly, already so close. When his hand slid between her thighs she knew that he must be close too. The light pressure on her clit tipped her over the edge, taking him with her. It was the fastest they had ever gotten each other off, but they were both left gasping all the same.

She groaned softly as he pulled out, her head resting on the couch cushions. “Are you okay?” he asked, a hand rubbing along her back. His voice sounded suddenly concerned in a way that broke her heart.

“Fine,” she muttered, flashing him a big smile to show he hadn’t actually hurt her. “Just need a minute.”

His fingers brushed down her spine as he left her alone to collect herself. It took her a moment to get her bearings. Now that it was done she was questioning her decision to come here. What were they doing? She looked around for her clothes and pulled them on quickly. Yet again she considered walking out the door again. This could be it, one last fuck before they pulled the plug for good. Suddenly the idea seized her as the best plan. She would regret it, but leaving was the only way to move forward.

Michael was banging around in the kitchen as she tried to sneak past to the front door. The sight of him made her freeze for a moment. He hadn’t taken it upon himself to get dressed after their encounter, and she watched him as he stood with his back to her. Her eyes ran over the tattoo that covered his back lingering on the details to the best of her ability. It was the first time she had really seen it since it was finished. Seeing it from a distance in the light changed the perspective a bit; something about it unsettled her. She was quick to plaster a small smile on her face as he turned around to look at her. “What are you thinking about over there?” he asked, a teasing note to his tone.

She gave a small shrug. “Just that my friend Katie was right; you do have a nice ass.”

His laugh filling the room brought an actual smile to her face. Boy was she in trouble. “You hungry?” he asked. “I’m making breakfast.”

Reluctantly Sara walked into the kitchen to see what he was working on. So far there were just eggs. “I could eat,” she said.

As he went back to cooking she watched him closely, taking in details about him as he moved. It was like she felt the need to memorize every detail about him before she never saw him again. If her gaze made him uncomfortable, he was good at hiding it. The first indication that he remembered she was there was when he handed her a plate with an omelet on it. “Sorry that’s all I got at the moment; I need to go to the store.”

“This is fine,” Sara replied as he started to make one for himself.

As he finished making breakfast she thought back to the last three months they had been together, if you could count what they were doing as being together. She wasn’t sure that they had ever managed to make it through a full meal together without some kind of drama. Food appeared to bring out the realities of their situation. The thought made her question all the things she was dying to ask him at the moment. Clearly she needed to tread carefully unless she wanted this to dissolve into an argument. The words chased themselves around her brain. “Can I ask you a question?” It was the best that she could do.

“That was a question.” He was clearly amused by the observation, chuckling to himself.

“You were the one who wanted to get to know each other better, who asked if I wanted more. Have conversations instead of sex.”

He gave her a mock shocked look. “Now that doesn’t sound like me at all. I’m sure that I said conversations and sex. But we don’t do personal, against the rules.” His voice almost sounded sad as he said it, his attention seemingly focused on the task of making breakfast.

She was already regretting this. “So you are still mad at me. I thought maybe you were, earlier, when I first got the text. Though I wasn’t sure why.” The rest of that thought hung in the air between them, and the implication seemed to make him uncomfortable. He shifted against the counter for a moment, and despite the heavy subject, she was struck by a sudden need for him to put some clothes on. She sighed loudly as her eyes had trouble staying north of the border. “Food,” she muttered to herself.

The last bit seemed to have gone unheard as he chewed over her other comment. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean…”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I just… it was different, I guess. I wasn’t sure if maybe you didn’t want me here.” The expression on his face was serious, thoughtful. Having finished the omelet, she handed over her plate. He frowned deep as he set her plate in the sink. Something seemed to weigh heavily on him for a moment as they stood there. Suddenly she was sure that he was about to make some sort of confession, something that she wasn’t ready to hear. “I’ll be right back,” Sara said suddenly, a suddenly urge to get away from him. “Bathroom,” she muttered, walking away fast.

The comment took him by surprise, but he made no move to follow her. It only took a moment for her to find her way to the bathroom, a heavy sigh escaping her as the door shut behind her. For the life of her, she had no idea what had come over her. She had come all the way over here to talk to him, and the second it looked like he might be about to tell her something, she ran for a hills. Way to act like an adult. With a sigh she turned around and found herself standing not in the bathroom but a room she had never seen before. In her mind she counted the doors, one, two, three. Had she stepped into the wrong one? How had she never made that mistake before? A sudden memory popped into her head at the question, a memory of a locked door at the very end of the hall, right beside the bathroom. He’d said it was his office, and she’d never thought about it again. He was working on some project she couldn’t know about, some big secret. She was just on the verge of backing away when her picture caught her attention. Without wanting to move, her feet carried her closer, the better to see the articles that surrounded the photo. She had just barely begun to read when the door creaked open behind her. A soft sigh feel from her lips as she turned to look at him standing in the doorway. The look of panic on his face was one she had never seen before. Any doubt that this wasn’t meant to be seen quickly flew from her mind. She was glad to see that he taken it upon himself to put on some pants, the anger and confusion coursing through her overriding any desire she had felt for him only minutes before. As he slowly made his way into the office, she couldn’t help but examine his bare torso closely, the lines crossing beneath the main tattoo suddenly catching her attention in a new way. He stopped a couple of feet from where she stood and shifted uncomfortably, not quite able to look at her. “What’s this?” she asked, waving vaguely behind her.

It was a long time before Michael answered. He leaned against his desk and watched her as he chewed over the words. “There’s something that I need to tell you, but I shouldn’t.” There was a pause where he tried very hard to hold her gaze. “Because I don’t know that I can trust you. No offense.”

She nodded at that, an uneasiness settling around her shoulders. “We haven’t exactly been sharing our deepest darkest secrets here; I can respect that. But this…”

They both cast a glance at the papers tacked up on the wall. There was a long pause as he struggled to go on. “Just let me talk for a second, let me explain.” He waited for her to nod reluctantly before going on. “I’m not mad at you, per se. I’m madder at me, if that makes sense. I like you, which was never the plan. That part’s important. I need you to believe that; I never meant for you to get involved in any of this, for things to be this way between us. I promise. You may not believe that, but it’s true.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “When I met you, the first time, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I think partly because I knew that I could never have you. Once I knew who you were and that you worked at the prison, I knew that there could be nothing between us. But then I saw you again, and it wasn’t just that I was attracted to a pretty girl. It was much harder to resist the urge to be with you, but that time I didn’t manage it. I told myself that it was a onetime mistake. It would never happen again. And you were so angry when you found out who my brother was, that I hadn’t told you, that staying away from you seemed easy. But then I saw you again.”

“And we slept together.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

He laughed to himself though it was clear he didn’t find any of this remotely funny. “Fond memories,” he said with the ghost of a smile. There was a moment before he turned completely serious again. “When you didn’t call me back at first, I was glad. At least one of us had some kind of sense.”

The memory of how she had struggled to resist the urge came back to her. “But then my resolve broke too,” she whispered more to herself than to him.

He nodded. “No feelings, just sex. I convinced myself that I could do that.” He sighed as he studied her for a long time. “I don’t think that I can. In fact, I’ve known that I couldn’t for a while now. It’s made me conflicted, because I can’t have you both, you and Lincoln. How many times have you said that to me? That this wouldn’t work. You were right about that but not for the reasons that you think.”

The mixture of confusion and anger overwhelmed her, but she still noticed the way his hand shook a little as he pointed toward the wall behind her. “What is this? What’s going on?” she asked.

“A plan,” he said with a reluctant sigh. “But there’s a story behind.”

He inclined his head toward the wall, and she finally turned around to look. This time her focus was drawn not to the picture of herself but the large pages tacked up in the middle. She had seen pages like that in his office just recently, strewn all over his desk. “Blueprints?” she asked automatically, her eyes barely glancing over other words that meant something. East Cell Block. Infirmary. Psych Ward. She looked back at him wordlessly. “Fox River?” she whispered.

“Like I said, there’s a story behind it. Just listen for a moment, please.” He waited for her to nod again before going on. “Several years ago, when I was still new to the firm, a friend of one of the partners showed up. The guy’s firm had been granted a contract to retrofit the prison, but none of their people could crack it. So he contracted the work out to us. I was new, but I’m good and got added to the project.”

“You designed Fox River?” The words sounded disbelieving even to her. She couldn’t manage to connect what he was saying to her to anything resembling reality.

“Not originally,” he said with a dark laugh before seeming to remember the seriousness of the conversation. “At the time it meant nothing to me. It was a building just like any other. But then my brother ended up there. When he told me that they were transferring him to Fox River to await execution, I knew what I had to do, so I took the blueprints from work and started planning the best way to break him out.”

The words caught her off guard. There was no way he had said what she had heard, no way he had just confessed to her his intention to commit a felony. “I’m sorry, what?”

He sighed loudly and looked uncomfortable again. “He’s my brother. What else was I supposed to do? They convicted him on barely any evidence at all and have rushed through all his appeals. A man sits on death row for ten, fifteen years. Some of them even die before they can make it to the chair, and yet my brother has gotten less than half that.” He looked sheepish for a moment. “Doesn’t that seem off to you? I never thought it would come to this. It was just a contingency plan. I hired the best lawyers, did the best that I could to exhaust every legal means available. But now this is the only plan left. Or it was until Lincoln found out.” He shifted guiltily for a moment, not quite looking at her.

As he spoke the words his brother had said to her just the other day came back. “I know what he’s doing, and I told him to stop,” she whispered softly.

When she looked back at him it was to find him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Sara?” he sounded almost hopeful.

His words hit her in waves, each one like a dagger to the heart. She shook her head. “No,” she said backing away. “No, I can’t.”

“Wait!” he shouted after her as he wound her way past his desk and through the apartment to the front door. Sara’s hand was on the door by the time he caught up with her. “Let me explain. It wasn’t meant to be this with us. I swear.”

She shook her head again. “I think you’ve explained enough.” She took a deep breath. “Just don’t, okay. Don’t call me, don’t come by my house. I can’t be that woman. I won’t be.”

“I wasn’t asking you to be.”

She scoffed lightly and walked out the door. Somehow she managed to make it all the way to her car before she started to cry.


	7. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is at last. I have finally managed to finish the next chapter. This one is not one of my favorites, but I feel like it moves the story along to where it needs to be for the last chapter and the epilogue. As usual, I am anxious to know what you guys think. Hopefully you enjoy this. And I am going to try to have the last chapter up by the 21st if possible with the epilogue up not long after that. At the moment it appears that it may take a few extra days for the next chapter, but it will be up soon. It just might be 24th or 25th before it is finished. I’m sorry about that, but my ultimate goal is to give you guys a great final chapter. Hopefully you understand.

Chapter 6: April

Lincoln sat on the bed quietly, waiting for Sara to say something. She hadn’t even taken the time to say hello to him this time, and the way he had reacted during their last meeting the week before came back to him forcefully. Obviously she was angry at him, that much was clear, but the level of her anger washed over him, seeming a little out of proportion to their argument. “Look,” he began, “about last time…” She silenced him with a look. Apparently her anger was so great that he wasn’t even supposed to speak now. He had spent the better part of the last week trying to figure out how he was supposed to move forward with her, but he never imagined that in that time she might have been thinking the same thing. It wasn’t right that she should get to be upset with him. After all, she was the one who had betrayed him not the other way around. Why did she get to be the one to dictate how this was going to go? Why did she get to come back at all? He frowned deeply and glared over at her. It took a tremendous effort to keep his voice even. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” he said. “You offered to find someone else, and I think that would be the best idea.”

The doc seemed to be too caught up in thought and ignored the request. It was infuriating. All those time she had tried to get him to talk to someone else, and now that he had finally given in she was ignoring him. He looked over at her pointedly, hoping to find her staring back. Instead he found her with her head bent down, paying no attention to him at all. As he watched her, she scribbled some notes onto the pages of the notebook balanced on her lap and frowned deeply. Was this the way it was going to be the whole time? Did she just plan to sit there and take notes while he attempted to get her attention long enough to get her to leave? That wasn’t how Lincoln thought this was going to go; it wasn’t how he wanted it to go. Finally, just as he thought she would never acknowledge his presence, her pen stopped moving across the page abruptly. Without looking up she said, “I wanted to return to your mother for a moment. It’s been a long time since we spoke about her.” She spoke as if this was just another normal meeting between them, like he hadn’t said he didn’t want to talk to her anymore or found out about her and his brother. “I believe the last time we spoke about her you mentioned that you suspected that she used to intentionally separate you and Michael so that you wouldn’t get him into trouble. We never got to finish that conversation. I thought we could now.” She paused and watched him carefully for a moment. “But you’ve always tried to keep Michael out of trouble, right? Serious trouble, I mean.” There was a warning in her eyes as she looked up at him, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface that scared him. Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn’t good.

This suddenly seemed like such a loaded topic. Lincoln thought back to the conversation in question, considered what she could mean with this line of questioning. What exactly did she think she knew? “He’s my baby brother, right? Aren’t I supposed to look out for him?” He shot her a probing look, hoping to get some kind of answer to where this was going without having to ask a question.

There was a very strange look in her eye as she looked at him. “That’s a very good point. Nothing’s more important than family.” It was clear that the words that came out of her mouth and the words she actually meant were two completely different things.

The cell was quiet suddenly. There were questions that she was obviously unwilling to ask. He watched her carefully for a long time, trying to put the pieces together in the hopes of figuring out what she was up to. “You’re different today,” he commented after a long time. “Did you and Michael break up or something?” He laughed at the expression on her face, something between guilty and annoyed. Lincoln nodded to himself. “So you did break up. Interesting. I hope it wasn’t because of me.” He shot her his best, mock innocent look. But something told me that he had not been the cause. So he kept fishing, enjoying the chance to fuck with her. “Couldn’t keep up with you I bet. I always figured he needed to be taught a thing or two, but I didn’t realize that Michael was that bad in bed,” he joked. It was all in good fun until he caught the exasperated look she shot him. “Okay, I’ll cut back on the jokes. With you at least. Fucking with him is my solemn duty as his older brother. I can never forget that.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his anger at her coming back full force. “I was joking, by the way, about setting you two up. And I seem to recall that you thought it would be unprofessional. Yet you dated him anyway. That’s interesting. Just saying. I know he’s pretty and all, but I’m the one being emotionally vulnerable here.”

Her voice came out strained as she finally spoke. “We were never a couple.”

He didn’t believe that for a second. “Sure you weren’t.” He chuckled to himself again. It was hard to deny that he was enjoying her unease. “But whatever it was that you were is over?” He took her silence as a yes. But if it wasn’t him that cause their end, what had it been? Something told him that he wanted to know, needed to know. It was like a prickle at the back of his neck telling him that danger was near. “What’d he do?” he asked, masking his own unease with teasing. “He’s not the cheating type, so I’m guessing not another woman. So what could it be?” As he spoke, he turned to look at her, and the smile fell from his face as he caught the guarded look she wore. An idea crossed his mind that couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. Michael wouldn’t have been that stupid.

It suddenly got very quiet again as neither one seemed ready to spill what they were thinking. Lincoln ran over every possibility in his head again. There had to be another reason, any other reason. What could Michael have been thinking? Surely he had figured that all wrong; his brother wouldn’t have confessed, to someone who worked at the prison no less. Surely he would have known better than that. In the moment Lincoln knew that he needed to test the water a little before he said something to make the situation worse without realizing it. “Michael’s always had a big imagination, you know? That boy could entertain himself for hours playing by himself when we were kids. He’d come up with these elaborate stories. Kind of like that show Rugrats. After our time, of course, but LJ loved it as a kid. Anyway, I guess Michael was like that one baby that was kind of the leader, always coming up with these grand adventures for us, but they were just stories in his head. Sometimes I wonder if he’s still a little like that, making up these elaborate adventures for us.”

That was met with a stony silence. When she finally spoke Sara weighed each word carefully. “We often tell ourselves stories to make us feel better, to take us away from the harsh realities of our daily lives. But that’s fiction, it could never be.” She shifted for a moment. “It’s important to remember that, the cost of forgetting.”

He nodded. “Exactly. It doesn’t do any good to dwell on things that can never be.” He let a deep silence fall between them. There was no doubt in his mind that she knew. She knew and had ended things with his brother because of it. The idea that any second now she might tell someone haunted him. As the thought came to him, he wondered suddenly why she hadn’t told anyone yet. But that wasn’t a question he dared to ask just yet. Not until he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she really knew. He cleared his throat. “Look, whatever Michael may have said or did, just know that stupidity when it comes to women is hereditary.” The words stuck in his throat some. He didn’t want to say it, but he felt that it might smooth things over some. “And I suppose that if you made each other happy, you should try to work it out, whatever it is he’s done.” He gave her a quick look only to find her scowling heavily.

“I assure you, that there is nothing between your brother and me anymore.” There was a bite to her words that helped to reinforce his fears. Any chance that she didn’t know seemed far-fetched now.

There were so many things that he wanted to say to her, so many assurances just on the tip of his tongue, so many pleas for her silence, but nothing was willing to come out. Someone needed to fix this. Either him or Michael, he didn’t care, but someone had to keep her quiet. If she talked his baby brother would end only end up in a prison cell too, and he could have that. Desperate, he threw caution to the wind. “Look, Sara,” he began.

“I think that Dr. Tancredi will do,” she said bluntly, a harshness to her voice he had never heard there before, even when she was upset with him.

“Dr. Tancredi,” he amended. “I can imagine what you’re thinking. But I promise, it isn’t like that.”

“Like what Lincoln?” The possibilities of what this situation could be were clear in her eyes, but she kept them off her lips. It was hard to miss the way her eyes flicked toward the cell door and back again before she continued in a much lower voice. “I think that we should leave this here for the time being. It would be unwise at this time for us to continue this conversation. I will consider your request to speak to someone else, but for now you’re stuck with me.”

That almost sounded like a threat, but Lincoln chose to try and not dwell on that. It was important to keep his cool for the time being. Once she was gone he could obsess about what had passed between them, but for now he needed to be cooperative. “I understand that,” he said carefully. “Will you be back next week?”

She was gathering up her things when the question hit her. The way she froze mid action was telling. “I will have to consider that too,” she replied, not looking at him. Before he could inquire further, she had crossed the cell to knock on the door to be let out.

Once she was gone Lincoln replayed their conversation over and over again in his head, wondering how he was supposed to live with the reality that she knew about the plan. It was not a pleasant development. The questions ran through his mind one after another. What had his brother been thinking? How long had she known? How long before she told the warden? How long before Michael was in the cell beside him? Every second she was out there with that knowledge rattling around in her head, the greater the chance it would all come crashing down. All he could do was sit there for the rest of the day just waiting for the hammer to fall.

***

Sara was doing some thinking of her own on the other side of the prison. Her notes sat in front of her, and she was going through them one more time, looking for any clues she might have missed. Michael had said that Lincoln was against the plan, but surely he would jump at the chance to escape death row. Who would choose to die if there was another option? But it was a wild plan, a fool’s hope. Every time she crunched the numbers she came back to the same conclusion, there was no guarantee that Michael would be able to pull it off. Maybe that was why Lincoln had said no. Possibly he thought it was better to just accept his fate than risk the consequences if the plan should fail. And it would certainly fail, right? People didn’t just break out of prison. She frowned again, trying to work it out in her head. ‘Extremely protective of his younger brother’. The words stuck out at her all of the sudden. Her lips moved as she read them to herself a few times. What had she gotten herself into?

“Burrows again?” Katie asked suddenly from across the room.” Sara looked over her shoulder at the other woman. Her friend was standing in front of the filing cabinet, finishing the job Sara had started months ago now and never finished. She was examining Sara closely. “That’s your Burrows look,” the nurse explained. “You’ve been wearing that expression for more than a week now. What’d he do now?”

Sara weighed her response carefully. Inside she was a mess of rage and hurt and confusion. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he didn’t care about her, had never cared. But for some reason she still hadn’t alerted anyone to what was going on. Every time she contemplated it, the words just would not come. She told herself it was because she knew that Michael would have to hold off for the time being. He couldn’t very well put a plan in place that she knew about. Not unless she was in on it. Which was probably what he was after all that time. Just the thought made her want to scream and rage and cry. But she was done giving into that. Now it was time to focus on the best way to handle the knowledge she’d be given. Even as angry as she was at the whole situation, she still knew that she couldn’t confide in Katie, not until she was sure she had everything worked out. “It’s actually something to do with his brother,” she said after some consideration. “There is something about their relationship that bothers me. They’re close. And not like brothers sometimes are. They are almost completely codependent on each other. It makes me wonder what’s going to happen to Michael once Lincoln is gone.” It makes me wonder what he might do to make sure that his brother being gone is never an issue. That thought she was careful not to say aloud.

“And you’re feeling guilty about your part in it?” the nurse asked knowingly. Katie abandoned what she was doing and came over to where her friend sat going through her notes and perched on the desk beside her. “You can’t let yourself get beat up about that; you have no control over what happens. Even when it feels like this is all your fault, it really isn’t. They would just find someone else to pronounce Burrows healthy enough to execute if you didn’t.”

“I know that,” Sara replied. She sighed loudly and tried to process her thoughts. “It’s not my part in this that’s the problem. Or maybe it is. How am I supposed to know? I just know that working here I believe in the death penalty even less than I used to.”

Katie looked startled at that. “You don’t believe in the death penalty?” she asked surprised.

“Did you assume I did because my father is the governor?” Sara shot her an unsure look before going on. It was such a loaded topic, especially in a place like Fox River. “I guess I believe that before we have the power to sentence a man to death we should have a judicial system in place that is totally unbiased and incapable of making mistakes. Until then you run the risk of putting an innocent man to death. Why? Do you support the death penalty?”

The nurse shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like it, but it’s a necessary evil.”

Sara was careful to choose her words. “But the death penalty doesn’t act as a deterrent.” She sighed loudly. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. Obviously you are entitled to have your own opinion on the subject, just like me.”

“Some people deserve it.” The look on Katie’s face was hard, determined.

The comment caught Sara off guard, and she had to really think about a way to respond to that. “I suppose that’s true; I just don’t believe that I have the right to make that decision. How is execution really a punishment anyway? The only people who really get punished are the people around them. Lincoln has a family, but no one considers that they will be the ones that will actually pay for his crime. In the end he will basically have done three years for murder. If we were talking about parole people would be up in arms about that, but yet we’re perfectly okay with letting him out of prison just the same. In a different way, sure, but it amounts to the same thing in the end. And you can justify it by saying he’ll get his in the afterlife, but that all depends on whether your view of life after death is correct. Maybe a couple of months from now Lincoln Burrows will be walking on streets of gold, and the people who loved him, who never even contemplated pulling the trigger, will be the ones left to pay for his crimes. How is that justice?” Sara let that hang in the air for a moment as she watched Katie struggle for something to say. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”

Katie shrugged, a sour look on her face. “I just don’t see how you can work at a prison and not believe in a basic tenant of or justice system.”

Sara shrugged in return. “I just don’t, never have. And as you may assume, it makes my part in the execution of Lincoln Burrows a little difficult for me. I’m worried about his brother, afraid of what he might do.” Those words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“That’s a not really your problem.” Katie looked around them for potential eavesdroppers. “He’s just some guy that you hooked up with once, months ago,” she said as she looked back. “You know, this is why we don’t get involved with an inmate’s personal life.”

Sara laughed a little at that. “I hadn’t consider that,” she said jokingly.

Katie shook her head. “You’re a mess; you can’t let some hot guy you had a roll in the hay with to dictate your mental state. I care about you, and I hate to see you like this. You’ve been exhausted for weeks now. And I hardly think that this situation is helping you destress any.” She paused for a long moment. “Not to change the subject, but have you considered going to the doctor, get checked out just in case it’s something serious? Because I think that you should. Just in case it isn’t stress. Maybe you’re sick or something. Just a thought.” With that Katie rose from her spot on the desk and left Sara alone before the doctor had time to respond.

As her friend was walking away Sara considering confessing, but something held her tongue. Every time she considered telling someone about Michael she found that she couldn’t. She hadn’t even been able to say the words to Lincoln. And Katie had to be right about the situation only adding to whatever was going on with her. She felt tired all the way down to her bones sometimes no matter how much she slept the night before, and her worry over this whole thing wasn’t helping her sleep any anyway. What was she going to do about all of this? If only there was an easy answer to that question. The one thing she could do was heed even a little bit of her friend’s advice. Though she had no clue why she hadn’t told her friend that she had already had an appointment with a doctor. Not that much had come of it yet. So far she was still waiting for the results of the blood work. But knowing that Sara was at least trying to take care of herself would have at least gotten Katie off her back somewhat. But now wasn’t the time to be worrying about all of that. She needed to focus on the task at hand, not whether or not she was on death’s door. It was just stress. She was sure of it. And the sooner she decided what to do about Michael and Lincoln, the better.

***

Michael glanced over at his phone. He wanted to text her to try and explain, but he knew that was a bad idea. The last thing he wanted to do was make her angry by ignoring her parting words. So far the cops had not come knocking at the door, leading him to believe that she must not have told anyone yet. It had been about a week since she had found out, but rather than breathing a sigh of relief with each passing day, he found himself getting more and more uneasy. That she would never tell was too much to hope for. He had expected her to leave his apartment and go straight to the warden with what she had seen, what he had admitted to her. Why hadn’t she? He had spent the rest of the day waiting for a knock on the door that never came. Surely they would have come immediately, right? He had kept an ear out for the door as bit by bit he tore it all down, the entirety of his plan and burned it all. With each piece of evidence against him turning to ash he thought the exact same thing: The hammer should have fallen by now. And yet, they still hadn’t come by the time the wall was completely bare. He couldn’t help himself from questioning things at that point. What was she doing? She had given him all that time to destroy the evidence. Why would she do that? It made no sense. Surely she had to have realized that he wouldn’t just sit around and wait for the cops surrounded by the proof of his guilt. Time was of the essence. He had held onto the hard drive from his computer, but he knew that he might have to get rid of it soon. At the rate he was going, by the time the cops finally came around the only thing left was going to be the tattoo. Luckily he hadn’t gotten around to telling her that part. But even though all the information he needed was hidden in the tattoo, he still found it difficult to destroy the last bit he had left. If he could just get her to talk to him… His eyes cut over to the phone again. It would be so easy to just pick it up and call her. His hand was halfway across his desk toward his cell phone when the buzzer on his office phone went off. “Yes,” he said warily,

“You told me not to let you call her,” Lola said bluntly.

“Of course,” he replied. “Thank you.”

He released his finger from the button and leaned back in his chair. Tasking Lola to be his checks and balances at work had been a good idea. If only he could have someone to keep him in check at home too. Now would have been a good time to fall into the boss/assistant trope he had been carefully avoiding with her. But the thought didn’t have any appeal. Perversely, the only woman he seemed to want was Sara, the one woman he could no longer have. She was never going to forgive him for this. Never.

And on top of everything, he was going to have to reevaluate the whole plan. He couldn’t show up in Fox River now with her knowing what he was up to. Maybe she had held off on telling for now, but something told him that her resolve would be tested if he was around. But how else was he supposed to break Lincoln out? He had ruined everything. And for what? She wasn’t even talking to him anymore. And now his brother was going to die all because he was stupid. He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to fix this. Though as the thought came to him, he wasn’t entirely which this he was trying to fix.

***

Lincoln sat there looking at his little brother, lost for words. In the days since he had seen the doc and worked out what had happened between her and Michael, he had come up with many things to say, but now that they were face to face the words would not come. The setting did not make matters any easier. It was always hard to have these conversations without being overheard. Lincoln racked his brain for the words as he looked at his brother through the glass. “You remember that project you were working on before, the one you told me you weren’t going to finish?” He very carefully held his brother’s gaze, a warning written on his face.

Michael shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted side to side. “I never said that I wasn’t going to finish it.” His eyes cut over to the guard behind Lincoln for half a second. “The project is important, and I have no intention of just abandoning it.”

The frown on Lincoln’s face was more than plain. How could someone so smart be this dense? Didn’t his brother understand what was at stake here? All those years, all that time his brother had spent making something of himself, thrown down the drain, and for what? He cleared his throat. “There are more important things than… work.” He said the word after a moment’s pause. “You’ve got to think about other things. Like that girl you were with. I thought you really liked her, and then you go and screw it up with this shit.”

For most people it was difficult to read Michael unless he wanted them to. He had a gift for closing off his emotions, hiding them from view when necessary. But Lincoln had spent a lifetime learning how to read his little brother. It was clear that the reference to Sara had surprised him, though he hid it well. “How was I supposed to know that she wouldn’t be able to handle it?” he snapped, careful to keep his eyes focused forward.

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You knew damn well that you were going to run her off. Which I don’t understand.” He stopped to consider the next words he was about to say. When he very first found out that his brother was sleeping with the prison doc he was pissed. Still was, if he was honest. But there was something in Michael’s eyes when she was brought up. Lincoln found himself saying words he never thought he would say. “You know, I’m starting to think you and I are related after all. Why can’t you just let yourself be happy for once? I know that the circumstances aren’t ideal. Trust me, no one knows that better than me, but you don’t get to choose who you love.” He chuckled darkly. “Or else Veronica wouldn’t have chosen me all those years ago.” He looked at his little brother sternly. “You deserve to be happy, so do yourself a favor and call her. Tell her that you’ve seen the error of your ways and mean it. Tell her that you were just caught up in an old relationship, but that you see that it isn’t worth it. Because it isn’t Michael. The cost of that is too great. So go be happy. It’s the least you can do.”

Michael scoffed and glanced at the guard behind his brother again. When he finally spoke his words came out hesitant. “You know that walking away isn’t that simple. My boss has done a lot for me, and I can’t just abandon him when he needs my help.”

The reminder was uncomfortable for both of them. “I’m sure that your boss didn’t do anything with the intention of being paid back. I bet you anything that all he’s ever wanted was to see you succeed. That it is all worth it for him to know that you’re going to have a good life. And that includes someone to spend it with. Even if he might have chosen someone else, I’m sure that he would just want you to be happy. Don’t screw it all up like me. Apologize, sincerely and drop all the rest of it.” Lincoln shifted uncomfortably, the words he wanted to say not quite ready to come out. “Just promise me that this is done. I can’t be worrying about you in here.” Michael looked put out, but he nodded. “I need an actual promise,” Lincoln said. “That whatever you’ve been up to, you’re going to go home and destroy it.”

A panicked look crossed his brother’s face. Michael seemed so torn between what he wanted and what Lincoln was asking. “Don’t ask me that,” he said, voice barely audible, sounding on the verge of tears. “I can’t do that. I won’t.”

Lincoln sighed deeply. Everything he had ever done to keep Michael out of trouble flashed before his eyes. All of it for nothing. He knew before he even spoke that he would sound desperate. “I’m begging you, Mike, please, don’t do this. I need you around to teach my son how to be a man, to keep him out of trouble. If you don’t stop for me, do it for LJ; he can’t lose both of us. And you were always better than me. He needs you a hell of a lot more than he ever needed me.”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he struggled to meet his brother’s eyes. His head shook, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Whatever he wanted to say seemed unable to cross his lips. Lincoln watched him, distressed. All he wanted in that moment was to make everything better for his little brother. More than anything he wanted to hug him, tell him that it would be alright. But he knew that whatever words he tried to use now wouldn’t be enough. They had grown past the point where Lincoln could say anything necessary to make it all better, and Michael would just believe him. He struggled for words. “You know that I don’t ask you for much,” Lincoln began, “and God knows that you don’t owe me anything.” Michael looked at him sharply, disbelief etched into every line on his face. Lincoln was quick to go on before he could interject. “But please, for me, just let me die.” The words came out as a whisper. “I get to choose how I go, and this is what I want.”

There was a long silence between them before Michael finally broke it. “I do owe you,” he said quietly, “I owe you everything.”

Lincoln’s anger towards his brother softened some. “Oh Michael, it’s not some debt that has to be paid. Everything that I’ve ever done I did because you’re my little brother, and I love you. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for you or LJ.”

“Except fight this,” Michael replied bitterly.

“That’s not my choice. I didn’t…” Lincoln cut himself off suddenly. “There is nothing left to fight,” he said instead. “The only thing left is to make my peace with it.” In the moment there were so many things that he wished to say, but the words would not come.

There was a knock on the back of the cage, and Lincoln turned around to look at the guard standing there and nodded. When he turned back around Michael was scowling at him from the other side of the barrier. “Promise me,” Lincoln tried again.

Michael stared mutely back for a moment before shaking his head and rising from stool. “Michael,” his brother yelled after him as he walked away. “Michael, don’t do this. Please!” He never even turned around as Lincoln struggled to remain calm. It took a tremendous effort to keep his head as the guard unlocked the cage to take him back to his cell, but as they walked away all he saw in his mind’s eye was the look in his baby brother’s eyes as he got up to walk away.

***

Sara found it difficult to sit still as she waited for the doctor to come in with the results of her blood work. They had just led her into the examination room and left her to wallow in her thoughts without any explanation about what was going on. She considered the situation again. They had asked her to come in to discuss her results. The answer had to be bad, right? Surely they would have only made her come in if it was something serious. Suddenly she regretted not heeding Katie’s advice sooner. What if she was seriously ill, and all that time she had waited could have been used fighting whatever it was that she had? What if they were about to come in and tell her that she was going to die? As the thought crossed her mind, she found herself rocking a little on her tailbone, full of a nervous energy she hadn’t known she was capable of. What was taking the doctor so long?

Sara glanced at the door hopefully, but it still remained resolutely shut. At least this whole situation was serving as a distraction from what, from who usually occupied her thoughts. And she needed a good distraction on that front. Even with something else to occupy her thoughts, she still found herself returning to the same questions over and over again. It had been ten days since she had discovered that Michael had been lying to her, manipulating her. He had never cared. The memory still made her angry and confused. All those night they had spent together, and on every single one he had been lying. When had he decided that the best way to get what he wanted was to sleep with her? The first night she took him home with her? After that disastrous dinner she’d had with her father when they had run into each other at the restaurant? The first time they had met at the prison? Or had he been planning it all along? She hadn’t had the chance to read all the information around her name before he’d found her, so for all she knew, all of it had been a plan to seduce her, use her, and then leave her once she had given him what he wanted. But what was it he wanted? Lincoln alive obviously. But how did she play into that? She was just trying to work out the answer to that question when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she said clearly.

Dr. Campbell poked her head in, smiling broadly. After a moment the rest of her body followed. “Good morning Sara. I’m pleased that you were able to come in this morning.” The woman seemed cheery as she spoke. Maybe that was a good sign. You aren’t cheery when you tell a patient they’re dying. Right?

Sara cleared her throat. “Your assistant said that it was important.” She tried to keep the worry out of her voice the best she could. “Something about my test results. I’m assuming that it must have been something serious if I had to come in. Did you find something? Do we need to do more tests? That’s it, I’m guessing. You just needed me to come in for more tests.” Her words came out jumbled, her unease obvious.

The doctor looked up from the chart she had brought in with her. There was a kind look on her face as she sat down on the stool and wheeled over toward Sara. She placed a reassuring hand on her arm, stopping a shaking that Sara hadn’t even been aware of. “It is okay. Everything is fine, I promise. I did want you to come in for more tests, but we have a diagnosis.”

Sara looked up at her hopefully. Until that moment she hadn’t realized just how afraid she had been that they wouldn’t have an answer for her. “You know what’s wrong with me?” she asked, half turning toward the doctor in her eagerness.

Dr. Campbell smiled again, patting her arm a couple of times before pulling her hand away. “I wouldn’t say there is anything wrong with you per se.”

Sara breathed a sigh of relief. “So it isn’t cancer or something? I don’t have some strange growth inside of me?”

To her surprise the doctor actually laughed. The sound caught Sara off guard, and she sat there unsure how to respond to it. “It’s interesting you should put it like that. In fact you do have a growth of sorts.” She paused for a second to chuckle again at Sara’s confused expression. “It appears that the reason you’ve been so tired lately is because you’re pregnant. About eight weeks judging by your hormone levels.”

It sounded like the words were coming to her from a long distance away. Pregnant. That didn’t make any sense. She sat there playing the words in her head over and over again, unable to reply for the longest time. “You have to be mistaken,” she said once she managed to find her voice again.

“I understand that this must be a shock, but we are quite positive,” Dr. Campbell said gently.

“But I can’t be pregnant,” Sara argued. “I was always careful, always. There’s no way that I could be pregnant.” But even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t true. There was a chance, however a small one, that she could be pregnant. But she still found herself shaking her head, unwilling to believe it. “You have to be mistaken,” she repeated.

The doctor nodded like this was a conversation that she had had before. It probably was. “I understand that this isn’t what you were expecting to hear, but this is actually good news. It means that you’re not seriously ill or have some mysterious ailment that we’ve yet to discover. This is a perfectly normal thing that happens to women.”

Sara found herself shaking her head again. The diagnosis just wouldn’t take root. “But I can’t be pregnant. I got my period last month.” She paused for a second, reviewing what she had learned in medical school before the doctor started asking questions. “Before you ask, it was a little light, but I’ve always had light periods. My girlfriends have always hated me for that.” She laughed a little, though there was no humor in it.

The doctor was busy writing as she spoke. It made Sara scowl. Was this what Lincoln felt like when he was talking to her, like everything he said meant something significant? She was just about to say something when Dr. Campbell looked up. “What about this month?”

“What?” Sara asked stupidly,

“Have you gotten your period this month?” The doctor flipped through the chart really fast. “Since you came in that is. It looks like you mentioned the one last month as the last time you had your period when you initially came in. Based on the dates, you should have gotten your period again by now.”

Sara thought about that for a moment, counting the weeks in her mind. “I’m only a few days late,” she argued.

The doctor held up her hands as if she was accepting defeat, but her words told a different story. “Let’s play a little game you and me. I will list a number of symptoms of pregnancy. You don’t have to answer, just listen.” After a moment of thought Sara nodded. “Okay. Let’s see morning sickness? Doesn’t necessarily have to be in the mornings, but it usually happens around the same time every day.” There was a brief pause followed by some more notes on the chart. “So no morning sickness. Lucky you. What about unusual cravings? Foods you wouldn’t normally eat or combinations of food that might seem strange?” Whatever answer Sara’s face gave the doctor didn’t respond. “Sensitivity to smells? Certain clothes feeling a bit tight? Sensitive and/or enlarged breasts?” She chuckled again suddenly. “I see we have a winner.”

“It comes and goes,” Sara muttered. “It was right before my period. That isn’t unusual.” But then she thought of the burgundy dress she had worn to the candidates’ brunch her father put on. She could have sworn the cleavage wasn’t nearly as bad the last time she had worn it. At the time she had just chalked it up to faulty memory. And she had been distracted by other things. Another symptom popped into her head. “Increased sex drive,” she whispered to herself.

Dr. Campbell nodded. “Now one or two of those alone could be random, but when you add them together, for a woman of your age who is sexually active, the most likely diagnosis is pregnancy. There are some more tests that we can run if needed, and I would like to give you an ultrasound since you are past due for your first one. That will alleviate any doubts you may still have, I am sure. After that we can start talking options.”

Sara sat there for a long time trying to consider the whole conversation. A part of her still found it difficult to believe. “When would you want to do the ultrasound?”

“Now if that works for you, since you’re already here.”

The answer took her by surprise. Sara had expected that she would have a little more time to try and wrap her brain around the possibility before she was confronted with the concrete proof of what the doctor was saying. The part of her that still wanted to argue that this wasn’t possible was particularly against it, but she knew that she would need to do this at some point. Reluctantly she nodded. “Good,” the doctor said, “follow me.”

Sara rose from her seat and followed the doctor down the hall into a room much like the first except this one had an ultrasound machine next to the bed. With a deep breath she climbed onto the table and pulled up her shirt as instructed. “This will be a little cold,” the doctor said before pouring the gel onto her stomach.

Sara was careful not to flinch as first the cool liquid and then the wand touched her stomach. Her eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling above her, a small part of her still hoping that the doctor was going to tell her that this was all just a big mistake. It was possible for the test to have been a false positive, right? With every moment that the doctor was moving the wand around looking, Sara hoped just the slightest bit more. Until Dr. Campbell said, “There we go.”

Without meaning to Sara’s head turned toward the monitor. Time seemed to stop as her eyes locked on the small c shaped being near the center of the screen. There was no denying that was a baby. It was even beginning to look human. She tried to remember what was so special about the eighth week of pregnancy. It had been a few years since medical school, and since this was hardly her field, her memory was a little hazy on the details. But there was something, she knew there was. It hit her suddenly, a panic the likes of which she hadn’t felt before spreading through her. “Shouldn’t…” she tried to ask. “Shouldn’t there be a heartbeat?”

Dr. Campbell looked at her uncertainly. “The sound is off. I wasn’t sure if you would want to hear it.”

Sara had no real memory of nodding, but she must have because the doctor reached forward and tapped some buttons on the machine to turn on the sound. The wand moved over Sara’s belly for a moment until a soft whooshing filled the room. She lay there listening to it intently, trying to count the beats, but she kept losing count. It sounded fast. That was normal, right? It was supposed to be that fast? “Does it sound okay?” she finally asked, unable to just wait to be told anymore.

“It does. Normal.” The doctor peered closely at the screen. “What I’m seeing confirms the results of the blood test. It is a little difficult to be exact at this early stage, but from what I can tell, eight weeks seems to be pretty accurate. This little guy is about the size of a raspberry now and working on growing fingers and toes at the moment.”

Sara looked back at the screen, lost in thought as she listened to the beating of her baby’s heart. It seemed unreal that there was this little person growing inside of her, and yet there they were. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that it would feel like this, shock and confusion with happiness overriding both. “Can I have a picture?” she asked suddenly, wanting some kind of proof that this was real once it was time to go and the image was off the screen.

Dr. Campbell smiled knowingly. “Of course you can. Have to have something to show Dad after all.”

And it all came crashing down. Michael. Of course. Because she hadn’t made this baby alone. Her eyes flicked back to the screen, back to their baby, and in the moment she had no idea what she was supposed to do with the image in front of her.

***

Michael gritted his teeth as he pressed down with the sponge again. No matter how hard he tried the smudge would not come off the top of the stove. He let out an exasperated breath. There had to be something that would get the mark off. This was the last bit of the kitchen before the floors, and then he could go to sleep. He ran through the various cleaning products he had stashed under the sink in his mind. It would help to choose the right one if he knew what had caused the mark in the first place. The last time he had used the stove was the day Sara had walked out of his life forever. Had he spilled something on the stovetop when he was cooking and not realized? He tried to focus on the task at hand instead of the memory of the door slamming in his face when she left. It was difficult to keep his thoughts in line. Every opportunity they had to stray to Sara they did without prompting. It was very annoying. She was gone, and that was important to remember. What mattered now was finding a way to save his brother that did not involve him going to prison. Three years he had been working on that plan, and now he had barely a month to come up with a new one. He sighed deeply and renewed his scrubbing. There had to be a way to save Lincoln, there had to be. He would never be able to forgive himself if he had messed things up so bad that he couldn’t fix it.

But that thought only led him back to Sara, a place his mind shouldn’t go. Why couldn’t he just not think about her? He should be focusing on Lincoln now, not some woman he had known for only a few months. Yet she invaded his thoughts all the same. If he was honest, she was the reason that he was up cleaning his kitchen at two in the morning. If he hadn’t been thinking of her, obsessing over her, he would have been able to sleep. But he always thought of her, especially in the quiet of the night. It was the smell of her on his sheets. That had to be it. No matter how many times he washed them, the smell of her would not go away. In his mind, Michael knew that wasn’t actually the case, but he could smell her all the same.

And he saw her everywhere too. He would turn his head and she would be perched on the counter, watching him make breakfast. Or she would be sprawled on the couch, watching him with that curious look she always got when he was doing something weird. She had looked at him like that the night he had compulsively picked up her coat off the floor. And again when she had found him doing her dishes in the middle of the night not long before that. He had forgotten about that one until the memory came to him. That was before Lincoln had told her he was sick, that something was wrong with him. She had been more amused than concerned that time, but the look on her face was the same both times. That look haunted him now. Along with the way she had held him after they had sex. He could almost feel her arms around him now, feel the way her hand rubbed his back softly, told him that everything was alright. She had just let him lie there with his head on her chest for what felt like hours but also not long enough at the same time. He tried to push the memory from his mind. That would have been so much easier if the thought of her didn’t leave him with a sinking feeling in his gut and a desire to call her again, try to make it right. But she would never forgive him for what she knew now. It was too late for all that. Plus, what mattered was Lincoln.

With a sigh Michael tried to tackle the spot on the stove again. Whatever had caused it, the mark continued to remain stubborn to all methods of removal. But he could be just as stubborn if needed. He would find a way to fix this, no matter what he had to do. Where there was a will, there was a way. That had been his motto since he was a kid, and he clung to it now in the hopes that it was true. He could fix things, save Lincoln, make things right with Sara. The thought was nice, but it could not be. No, there was no way to make things right with Sara. He couldn’t think of her now. The only thing he had time for was his brother. Everything else would have to wait.

***

Sara let out a frustrated sigh as she rolled over onto her back. Her eyes flicked over to the clock glowing from her bedside table. Two in the morning, great. Every part of her body was exhausted. Yet she still couldn’t sleep. Every time she managed to drift off for a moment, the dreams that came to her were not pleasant. Or they were pleasant, and that was the problem. Thinking about Michael was not helpful. Especially those thoughts about Michael. She let out a groan as she shifted a little. Why was she reliving some of the highlights of their sex life now? It had been difficult enough to push those particular memories from her mind the first time, but she had eventually managed it. Only for them to come back full force. Sleeping in the bed that had been witness to many of those memories was not helping matters. She was half tempted to try and sleep on the couch, but they had made many memories there as well. And the kitchen, her bathroom. There was hardly any place in her apartment that hadn’t seen their naked bodies coming together in one way or another. Every time she looked around, all she saw was sex. She could see it, hear it, feel it in every pore. Was her mind trying to pinpoint when it had happened? Maybe that was it, she was just trying to figure it out. Which time, which moment, which place he had managed to get her pregnant. There were so many times to contemplate. It would have been so much easier if just once they hadn’t been so careful. Then she could point to that moment and say ‘there it is’. But no, she had always been smart about sleeping with him, in that way at least. And he had been too. Of that she was sure. There were many things she could attribute to Michael Scofield now that she knew the truth, but intentionally getting her pregnant wasn’t one of them. He wouldn’t have wanted this.

Another sigh fell from her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Did she tell him? That would require speaking to him, something she did not want to do. But at least telling him was the adult thing to do. One day this little person inside of her was going to want to know where their dad was, and when that time came she would prefer to be able to say that she at least said the words in his general direction. But if she told him he might want to be around. The thought seized her suddenly. That sounded exactly like something Michael would want to do. He had never had a father and had spent the better part of the last fifteen years serving as a stand-in father for his nephew. A man like that wasn’t the type of person who would just walk away from his child. But she couldn’t have him in her life. It was selfish, she knew that, but there was no way that she could have a relationship with Michael Scofield, not knowing what he had done. She sighed again. “Look,” she said softly, “I know that you will hate me, but hopefully one day you will understand that your father isn’t a good guy.” Guilt seized her even as the words fell from her lips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. He’s still your dad, no matter what, and I will try to be better about no saying back things about him. It’s just complicated. I wouldn’t expect that you would understand. You probably don’t even know what I’m saying. Do you even have ears at this point? I’m just lying here talking to myself like a crazy person.”

She had been doing that a lot lately, acting like a crazy person. When in doubt, she talked to her stomach. Her thoughts had been such a jumble the day that she had found out that she had called into the prison to say she couldn’t come in. She had never done that before. But there had been no way she could focus on anything but the baby. After that she had stood sideways in front of the mirror trying to detect the slight bump this new life inside of her was already causing. Maybe she was just imagining the curve of her belly, but she was sure that it was already there. Right now much of the changes were internal, her organs moving out of the way so the baby would have room to grow, but soon there would be no denying the truth. The thought had been scary when it first came to her. Even as she lay there in bed a week later, it still scared her. The doctor had told her that the baby was about the size of a raspberry. There was a small fruit inside of her, getting a little bit bigger every day. That was a difficult concept to think about. The soft whooshing sound of her baby’s heart kept her up at night. It had been the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in the world, but the thought that that noise was inside of her was terrifying. She was growing a person, yet she couldn’t even get up the courage to tell Michael about it. How was she supposed to do this if she couldn’t even do that? “I will tell your father eventually, I promise. I just need more time.”

As usual, she received no response. With yet another sigh she rolled back over on her side, hoping to find sleep again, this time without dreams of Michael.

***

Lincoln sat on his bed, eyes glued to the cell door. There was a hand pushing a tray of food through the slot. “Are you going to take this one?” the guard asked, clearly exasperated with the situation. Lincoln found himself unable to speak. After a moment the man on the other side of the door sighed. “Fine, have it your way.” He let go of the tray, and Lincoln watched as it fell, the tray and its contents landing in front of the door with all the others.

Lincoln had lost count of how many times this same scenario had played out. It had become a routine. The guards would bring him food, and when he refused to rise from the bed to take the tray, the food ended up on the floor. The sight of it made him sick, but he found himself unable to get off the bed. Days had passed this way, though Lincoln wasn’t sure of how many. They all ran together now, the difference between sleeping and waking hardly discernable. He hadn’t left his cell in days either, not that he had noticed. If it hadn’t been for the visits with the food three times a day and the moments when the lights switched off, he would have had no way of marking the passage of time. But he still had trouble keeping track.

He pulled his legs closer to his chest as his eyes locked on the discarded food even though it made him queasy. It was like he couldn’t muster the willpower to do something as simple as moving his eyes. Even his thoughts were sluggish, the lack of food and sleep exacerbating the questions that tortured him. The only thing he had to cling too were his memories, but even they only made things worse. Each moment played itself over and over again. The first time he had held LJ. He was still just a kid himself, not much older than his son was now, nowhere near ready to be a father, but he had stood there and held his boy and promised that he would be better all the same. At the time he had meant better than Aldo, better than whoever the fuck Michael’s father had been, but now he would have given anything to be better than this too. His failures with his son flashed through his mind. The first time he had looked at his boy through plexiglass, the way the boy had cried when he and Lisa broke up for good, all the games he had missed, all the nights he hadn’t helped the boy with his homework. And there were so many more failures that haunted him that hadn’t even happened yet. All these events in his son’s life he wouldn’t be there for. All that anger he wouldn’t be around to help the boy through. It was all such a burden.

And thinking of Michael was even worse. There was so much more regret there. Where had Lincoln gone wrong with him? He had fed him and clothed him, borrowed the money necessary to send his baby brother to college. Every stupid mistake he had made had been for Michael. His brother had a good life. Why would he throw all of that away? And for what? For him? Why would Michael do something like that? There were so many things he could still be unlike Lincoln. The possibilities were endless. He could even be a father himself someday. A munch better one than Lincoln had ever been. And certainly better than their own deadbeat dads and the endless stream of foster fathers they had had after their mom died. But he couldn’t be that if he wouldn’t let the plan to break Lincoln out go. The look in his brother’s eyes when he had mentioned the doc haunted Lincoln too. For better or for worse, his brother cared for her. Maybe in another life he could have even been happy with her. But none of them were happy now.

There was a rattling outside the door, voices saying words that Lincoln couldn’t make out. He pulled his legs even closer to his chest, trying to curl up even tighter than he already was. The cell door opened slowly, multiple guards on the other side. “Oh shit,” one of them muttered. Lincoln found himself unable to even look over at the man as he cautiously approached. “Somebody get the doc!”

***

Sara could only hope that her trepidation wasn’t easily noticeable as they walked down the hallway towards the segregated housing unit and Lincoln’s cell. By the way that Patterson kept glancing at her over his shoulder she was afraid that he could tell how much she was dreading this. They hadn’t been specific about why she needed to come right away. She could feel the frown on her face deepening as Louis suddenly turned, leading her down a hallway she had never been down before. “Where are we going?” she asked.

As he stopped and turned to look at her Sara noticed for the first time that he was frowning too. He seemed nervous as his eyes cut around them. “Visitation. You, uh, you don’t want to be in Linc’s cell right now. It doesn’t smell very pleasant.” He sighed deeply and refused to go on.

“And why is that?” she asked suspiciously, making him look uncomfortable. So many things came to mind. “Louis, what happened?”

“Look, we didn’t have a choice. He’s been unresponsive for days now.”

The words caught her off guard. Days, he had said. Why hadn’t she heard anything about this? “What do you mean he’s been unresponsive?”

Patterson looked around him uncomfortably again. When he finally turned back, he was unable to meet her gaze. “Just that. He hasn’t spoken to anyone since Wednesday. When we go to bring him food, he doesn’t acknowledge that we’re even there, refuses to come to the door and grab the tray.” Louis looked awkward suddenly. “We didn’t have a choice. Okay? We have to leave the food. Three times a day. Those are the rules. Otherwise he could say that we’ve been starving him.” He sounded sorry as he spoke. “The Pope wanted to talk to him about it. Mack and I went to go get him this morning, but when Mack called through the door, nothing. He didn’t respond at all. When we finally opened the cell he was just sitting there on the bed, didn’t even acknowledge that we were there. And the food was piled up by the door, trays and all. I don’t know how long it had been since he had even moved.” He casted his eyes around again. “We had to drag him out of the cell. It wasn’t that he was uncooperative, he just wasn’t in there, I think.” Louis watched her awkwardly, obviously waiting to see if she would say something. “The Pope said that he was to see you instead. Said that Linc was clearly mentally distraught.”

Sara sighed loudly, trying to process what he’d just told her. She knew that Lincoln had been upset the last time they spoke, but she wouldn’t have predicted that he would have some kind of break down. “Do you know what happened? What might have triggered this?”

Louis gave a half shrug. “He hasn’t left his cell since Wednesday.”

The words seemed off to her somehow. “It’s Monday. Doesn’t he get yard time three times a week?” There was that awkward look again. “Right,” she said. “He was uncooperative, so you cut his yard time. That makes so much sense.” The sarcasm was clear in her tone as she glared at the guard pointedly.

“It’s standard practice,” Patterson said defensively. “Usually when inmates get like this, we leave them to stew for a day or two and it fixes the problem. We thought he might have just been faking.” He took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “You know me. I’m not one of those guards; I don’t abuse my power over them. I did the best that I could; I went to bat for him with Pope. I told him that I didn’t think Linc was just acting out. And a lot of the others wouldn’t even if they suspected that it was the case.”

It took her a moment, but she finally inclined her head towards him in acknowledgement. “What about before he became unresponsive? Can you remember anything that might have triggered this?” As the words escaped her, she hoped that she wasn’t the cause. It was selfish, but she couldn’t help it.

Patterson frowned as he racked his brain. “Not that I can think of. The DOC revoked his work privileges months ago, as you know, and he hasn’t been in gen pop for years. None of the other guards have reported any problems with him. And other than us the only person he’s seen since the last time you saw him was his brother.”

By the look on his face Sara could tell that it was obvious to him that he had just given her significant information. “He saw Michael right before this? You don’t think that is significant?”

Louis shrugged. “Baby brother comes to see him almost every week.” There was a moment of recognition on his face suddenly. “But now that you mention it, they argued. Well, not argued per se. Stolte said that they were clearly both upset about something and that it didn’t end well.” He looked even more uncomfortable as he stepped into her bubble. His voice was scarcely audible as he added, “He wasn’t sure if he should say something or not, but it sounded to him like they were talking in some kind of code. Like what they were saying wasn’t… like it wasn’t the real conversation they were having. We’re supposed to report stuff like that, but even without proof the warden would be forced to yank his visitation privileges. Linc has so little time left; he should at least get to see the last bit of family he has left, right?” The guard was watching her closely, probably wondering if he had done the right thing.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing. Up until that point she had been reluctant to believe that Lincoln truly had no part in Michael’s plan, but if they were arguing about it, and that was the only thing she could imagine they had argued about, maybe he really was against it. “Where is Lincoln now?”

“Waiting in one of the visitation rooms we use for when the inmates have meetings with their lawyers. They’re sound proof, so we won’t be able to hear anything that is said. But honestly, I don’t know that you’ll have much luck. He wouldn’t even look at me.”

Those words worried her. More than once she had only exacerbated his foul moods, and she feared that this time would be much of the same. “I have to try, right?” she said as an indication that she wanted to continue on. Patterson turned and began heading back down the hall. The rest of the way to visitation all she could think about was what she could possibly say now. Clearly all she had done up until that point was make things worse, and trying to get him to talk was likely to be much of the same. She tried to push the thought from her mind as they arrived.

As they entered the room, Lincoln was sitting with his back to the door. He did not turn around at the sound of the door. Sara walked around the table to take the seat across from him, but he didn’t look up from where his hands were cuffed to the table. It occurred to her that this was the first time that she had ever seen him without the shackles on. The realization was both curious and unsettling. “Good afternoon Lincoln,” she said as Louis shut the door. “I was told that you haven’t been feeling well. Why didn’t you ask to see me?”

He gave her the minutest of shrugs. So he was in there somewhere, a good sign. She set her things aside and leaned against the table a little, hands clasped in front of her. “Can you look at me?”

He glanced at her briefly before looking away. That was a start at least. She was careful to choose her words. “I was led to understand that you have been refusing to eat for the last few days. That when they bring your food that you just let it sit on the floor. I don’t imagine that your cell smells great right now.” Just the thought of it made her stomach recoil. Probably best they had moved Lincoln before calling her.

“They brought in some old timer to clean it.”

The sound of his voice took her a little by surprise; he sounded so hollow. It wasn’t a voice she was used to hearing, and it broke her heart. Even with as angry as she still was at Michael, it was impossible for her to blame Lincoln for his brother’s mistakes. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, right above the metal cutting into his wrists. Another first for them, touching him for something other than medical necessity. “Still, you can’t refuse to eat Lincoln,” she said kindly.

The muscles in his arm tensed, like he wanted to recoil but the chain connecting him to the table held him in place. Did he prefer not to be touched? It wouldn’t be unheard of for a man whose entire life was spent with physical contact only when the guards led him in and out of his cell. And when she came to give him physicals. The thought was like a vise grip around her heart. Hers was not a comforting touch. She removed her hand carefully. “I wasn’t hungry,” he muttered once she’d pulled away.

“For five days?”

He shot her the briefest of glances again. “If you’d ever tasted the food here you’d know that it wouldn’t be much of a temptation even if I was. Still, not allowed to starve myself right? That’s one of those privileges they took away from me.” His eyes flicked away again, back to his hands cuffed to the table.

She sighed loudly. Was he just being melodramatic, or did he mean that seriously? “Are you telling me that you want to die all of the sudden?”

The handcuffs clinked against the table for a moment. His voice came out soft, contemplative. “I’m not sure if you got the memo Doc, but a jury of someone else’s peers decided that I was going to die. And no one asked my opinion on the matter. Not back then and certainly not now.” He chuckled darkly, but even that sounded hollow. “Do you ever think about how fucked up the whole thing is? I mean, they’ve decided that I am to die, but only on their schedule. I thought about that a lot the last few days. I sat there, stared at the food piling up on the floor, and I realized something. I refuse to eat long enough, you’ll strap me to the bed and shove a feeding tube up my nose. It does go up your nose right?” He didn’t wait for her to give him an answer. “No matter. I can’t be allowed to starve myself. You know? You come and see me, check my vitals, make sure that I’m healthy. And the truly fucked up thing is that if you found something was wrong they would delay my execution. Say tomorrow I get cancer, family history is in my favor on that one. If I got cancer I would get chemo and radiation, get to live another six months until I go into remission. I could have it you know; caner’s thought to be genetic. It could be growing inside of me, buying me a little more time. Or maybe it’s too far gone already. That’s what happened to Mom. By the time they caught it, the chances were almost zero that she would beat it. Sometimes it’s like that. I could be sitting here dying as we speak, and they would give me a stay of execution. Can’t kill a dying man? Can’t let him kill himself? What does that say about our society, about the men and women who put me here? I’m the monster, but they’re the ones who would lose their justified pound of flesh.” He sat back with a sigh. “I may have regressed a bit. Sorry about that Doc. I know how much you wanted to be able to tell yourself you did a good thing by helping me come to terms with my impending death, but you might just have to live with your failure on that score.” He gave her a level look as he fell into silence. It was unclear to her if the fire in his eyes was anger or despair.

Sara thought about all of that for a moment. He spoke of regression, like he understood on an intimate level what that meant. Had he thought this before and never told her? All this time she thought she was slowly peeling away his layers only to find out that wasn’t the case. She picked over her response carefully. “You’re right,” she said. “This situation is fraught with irony, to say the least. But I think that this is about Michael. I am told that he came to see you, and that you argued about something.” She thought that she saw a minute reaction somewhere in his eyes. It was all the confirmation she needed. “You know, I was on the fence about whether or not I believed that you had no real part in the plan. There were a number of things that pointed to either option. After all these months I think that I’ve come to know you pretty well, and everything points toward you having come to accept your fate, for the most part at least. But the closer we get, the harder it will be for you. Wanting to run opposed to dying would be understandable. I wouldn’t fault you for it.” That part was true at least. It was unreasonable to expect that Lincoln wouldn’t welcome the chance to live. That’s what had made it so much more difficult to believe he had no part in Michael’s plan. “But you don’t want to run, do you?”

He chuckled darkly. “There would be no point. We both know that they’d catch us eventually, and I don’t want that to be my story.” He looked around him for a moment, a sadness in his eyes that hurt more than it should have. “Look, my brother has read The Count of Monte Cristo a few too many times, and now he thinks that real life is like a book. With just the right amount of hard work and cleverness he can bust me out, but getting over the wall is the easy part. We would be running, always, until they finally found us. He’d throw his whole life away for what, to be in the cell beside me?”

In every version of this conversation that she had played through her mind since she had found out about the plan, he had always said some variation of that. “I considered that too,” she admitted. “Look, I want to help you here Lincoln, but I don’t know how.” She regretted her words even as she said them. The kind of help he was likely to want was far outside of her power to give.

A deep frown covered his face, making him look almost exactly like he had when she had very first came in. He looked so dejected as he seemed to consider her words for a long time. Finally an idea seemed to strike him. “You really want to help?” He gave her a second to nod. “I need to see a lawyer. Can you help me with that?”

At least he was asking her for something that was within her power, something that wasn’t illegal. “I don’t understand why you’d need me for that. I mean, I am happy to help, but they can’t refuse to let you meet with legal representation. Can’t you just call him?” An idea hit her suddenly. “Unless you’re afraid that they won’t let you use the phone. That I could help with.”

He was still frowning deeply, whatever he was asking for bothered him greatly. “No, you don’t understand.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t need to see my lawyer; he wouldn’t be able to help. I need to see a lawyer, a specific one. Veronica Donavan.”

The name rang a bell in her mind though she had only heard it once. No, twice. She had heard Michael mention it once too. The realization soured some of the sympathy she had been feeling. Of course he would try to manipulate her into something like this. Was that a family thing? “You want me to arrange a meeting between you and your ex-girlfriend?” She scoffed and shook her head. “I swear you and Michael.”

He leaned forward, a worried look on his face. “Look, just hear me out. I can’t call her myself; she’s not my attorney on record. Therefore, our conversation would be recorded. Plus, I doubt she’d take my call even if I did, but I need to talk to her. She’s the only one who could help. And I need what I say to her to be protected under attorney client privilege.”

Sara scoffed again. “Of course you do.”

He shook his head. “Not for me, for Michael. I swear, it’s for my brother. You have to believe me.” He sounded so desperate as he spoke. “I think that I’ve reached the limit of what I can do; he’s not listening to me. As far as I know, he hasn’t done anything illegal, yet.” He shifted uncomfortably under her glare. “Other than conspire to commit a felony, of course. But if I can get to him, convince him to stop, to destroy all the evidence and abandon the plan, there’ll be no crime to conspire to.” The look he was giving her was a plea that was hard for her to ignore. “If I know my brother, he’s distanced himself from Veronica. We all grew up together, and they’re still close. But I bet that she has no clue what he’s up to. In fact, I know it. She never would let him do something like this. I need her to try to talk some sense into him.” He paused for a second, a guilty look on his face. “Look, I know that I’m asking you for a favor that you have no reason to grant. You don’t owe me anything, but I am trying to do a good thing here. I just want to save my brother. He’s my family. Him and LJ, they are all I have left, and I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to either of them. If they catch him, he will rot in here, and I don’t want that for him. I promise, I just need to talk to someone that I can trust not to turn my brother in when he hasn’t really done anything wrong yet.” He looked at her closely for a second, as he chewed over his next words. “And I think that you want the same thing. How long have you known now? A week? Two? And yet you’ve told no one. And I think that’s because you care about my brother. You don’t want to, but even as angry at him as you are, you still care. If I’m right, I beg you, help me. There is nothing more important than family. Take it from a dying man.”

Sara sat there in silence for a long time. The word family echoed through her mind. If only the man across from her knew just how much that word had been haunting her. If only he knew the secret she had growing inside of her as they spoke. He sat there asking her to try and save the father of her child from spending the next five to ten years in a place just like this and didn’t even know it. There was nothing more important than family. And Michael was the baby’s family. The thought was frightening. It was quickly followed by another, one that froze her heart. That meant that Lincoln was the baby’s family too. Family that he or she would never get to meet. She could not save them both. In fact she could not save Lincoln at all. But Michael? Finally she conceded. “I’ll think about. That’s the best I can do.”

He nodded, looking relieved. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me. I can’t just sit by and watch as he throws his life away. Not after everything I’ve done, how hard I have worked.”

The choice of pronoun stuck out to her. “I? Don’t you mean how hard he’s worked?”

A look of terror crossed his face momentarily only to disappear just as quickly. “Of course. Michael has worked hard his whole life to get where he is today.”

She heard the words, but something about them did not sound right. It would have been easy to try and push for answers, but she knew that she needed to tread carefully unless she wanted to upset the delicate balance of Lincoln’s current mental state. So no more pushing for now. “I’m going to have the guards take you back to your cell now, if it’s clean that is. And when they come by with lunch, I want to hear that you ate it. Even if it doesn’t sound good, you have to at least eat some of it. And I will consider talking to Veronica for you.” Lincoln nodded, though she suspected that she had made only slight progress with him. “I’m going to check back in with you in a couple of days. We will talk a then.”

With that she rose from the table, a sudden urge to be as far away from him as possible consuming her. She had barely managed to make it to a nearby supply closet before the tears began to slide down her face. Every time she thought that maybe she had figured it out, the situation she had gotten herself into only seemed to get worse.

***

Michael shifted in his seat as the governor’s chief of staff reviewed the changes to the plan. What was it Sara had said this name was? Bruce. The man who knew the truth about him. That knowledge made Michael even more uncomfortable. If only Hannah or Judah had been present for the meeting. It being just him and Michael only made things more awkward. What if he used this opportunity to ask about Lincoln? “Hopefully, you can see why we needed to make some adjustments to the original,” Michael said nervously. The way the man looked up at him curiously did not help his nerves. Did he know something? Had Sara told him what she knew? Was that the real reason he was here? It was, wasn’t it? He found it difficult to hold the man’s gaze but just barely managed it. “This way will hopefully be more cost effective while also retaining structure integrity.” His voice faded a little at the end, much to his embarrassment.

“You’re the structural engineer. If you say so, I’ll have to take your word for it.” The man’s eyes did not stray from Michael’s face. “I was expecting Judah.”

There was a question in there that Michael struggled to grasp. “He had another meeting that couldn’t be pushed. He felt bad that he couldn’t be here to greet you, but it has been on the books for a while now. Hannah is also busy.” There was a brief moment where Bruce simply looked at him confused. “The architect,” Michael added as an afterthought. “Do you have any concerns about the plans?” he asked, his eyes flicking down to the blueprints where they sat between them on his desk.

“Not about the plans, no,” Bruce said as he leaned back in his chair some.

So they were going to have that particular conversation after all. Great. Michael was saved by the buzzer on his phone. “Yes,” he said into the phone, glad of the distraction.

Lola sounded unsure as she replied. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting, but Dr. Tancredi is on the phone, quite insistent that she speak with you.”

Well he had been glad until he realized the distraction was that. Michael found that he couldn’t quite look at Bruce as his thoughts raced. Of all the times for her to call, she had to choose now. Wait, why was she calling him now? She had made it quite clear that there was to be no contact between them ever again. What had happened to change that? “Please tell her that I will call her back once I have finished my meeting with Bruce Bennett.” He hoped that Lola got the hint that she was supposed to say exactly that.

He let his finger off the button, reluctantly turning back to the man in question. The look he got in return was even worse than he had imagined. This was not something that was going to be overlooked. Sure enough, Bruce immediately asked, “Why is Sara calling you?”

Michael racked his brain for a believable excuse. The only one that came to mind was the one topic he wanted to avoid discussing with the man, but it could work. “It’s probably about my brother.” He was stopped from elaborating further by the buzz of the intercom again. “Yes?” he asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

“Uh,” Lola said, “Maybe we should speak privately.”

Michael’s jaw clenched in annoyance. “It’s fine, just say it.” Better Bruce here whatever it was to avoid awkward questions about it.

Through the walls of his office he could see Lola shifting uncomfortably. “She says there is no need to call her back, but that she needs you to meet her for dinner on Friday. That it is imperative that you come, no questions asked.”

The tension that pronouncement caused was noticeable. “Yeah, tell her that’s fine,” Michael muttered. “I’ll get the details from you later.” He released the button once more and waited for the inevitable questions.

“Do you frequently meet Sara for dinner to discuss your brother?” Bruce asked without missing a beat.

If only there were an easy answer to that question. In fact, Michael was plagued with questions of his own. Like why she would want to see him now. She wanted to talk, that much was clear. And dinner meant witnesses. Little chance of them falling back on old habits with people around. Actually that was not entirely true, but something told him she would have considered that too. So a nice well-lit restaurant with a table as close to the center of the room as possible. But that brought up even more questions. For example, what did she want to talk to him about? His plan to break out his brother seemed the most obvious topic of conversation, but that wasn’t really something they could discuss in a crowded room. So what did she want to discuss? He was just contemplating the possibilities when he became aware that the man across from him was struggling to get his attention. “Sorry,” Michael said. “I got distracted trying to think what she could want. I’m not really sure why Dr. Tancredi would wish to meet for dinner. I would have been more than happy to answer her questions here.” He was careful not to use her first name, for fear of furthering the curiosity of the man across from him. “Honestly, I have only spoken with her a couple of times.”

It was obvious that Bruce still had questions, but he seemed content to ask them of Sara instead. “I should probably get back to the office. I am sure you and I will speak again,” he said, rising from the desk.

“I imagine we will,” Michael replied, rising with him.

There was an awkward moment between the men before Bruce gave a slight nod and walked out the office door. Michael sank back into his chair with a sigh. Now all he had were the questions in his mind. And he was going to have to wait until Friday to get them.

***

The office that Sara managed to locate in the back was cramped, and every surface within view of the door was covered in teetering piles of paperwork. The object of her search appeared to be missing. Maybe that was a sign that this wasn’t a good idea after all? Why had she agreed to get herself involved in all of this? Without meaning to, her hand strayed to her belly. Right. The baby. She was doing this for the baby, so maybe their father wouldn’t be in prison for most of their young life. But clearly this particular task was going to have to wait another day. She turned to go, but just as she was about to leave a head popped up behind the desk. The dark haired woman it belonged to was very pretty. If that was Veronica, Sara could see what Lincoln meant when he said she wasn’t his type; her and this women looked nothing alike. She was smiling kindly at Sara from her position on the floor. “Sorry, just doing some organizing. Can I help you with something?” the woman asked with a kind smile. It made Sara extremely conscious that the reason for her visit was unpleasant.

“I’m looking for Veronica Donovan,” Sara replied with a helpful point at the name on the door. “You wouldn’t be Ms. Donovan would you?”

The woman gave a small laugh. “Yep, that’s me.” Veronica managed to get off the floor and held out a hand to Sara. “And you are?”

“Sara Tancredi.” She crossed the room and shook hands with the lawyer. But once that was done she found herself lost for how to begin. She really should have considered how this was going to go on the way over. Lincoln hadn’t exactly given her much to work with when he asked for her help.

There was an awkward moment between the pair of them before Veronica spoke again. “And how can I help you Ms. Tancredi?” She paused for a moment. “With a last name like that I would imagine you could afford a better lawyer than me. Not that I’m one to turn clients away.” The woman laughed nervously. Here came the really awkward part. Sara shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, sorry,” Veronica said, coming around the desk and cleaning off one of the chairs. “Where are my manners? Please have a seat. Tell me what’s going on. How can I help?”

Sara sunk into the chair automatically and sat there far from at ease as Veronica squeezed behind her desk again. It was difficult for her eyes not to follow the lawyer. This was clearly an obstacle course she had walked before. There was an ease and comfort to her movements even amongst all this clutter that made Sara even more uneasy. This was her territory, and Sara had come with a request that was likely to upset her.

Once the lawyer had settled into her own chair Sara struggled to begin, knowing that this was the moment when she had to take all that ease away. “I actually didn’t come on my own behalf.” She glanced around the room absentmindedly. “I assumed you were a criminal lawyer, actually.” That pronouncement only got her a curious look. “Let me start over,” Sara said. “I work at the prison.”

“Prison?” The question was asked, with a steady look.

“Fox River,” the doctor supplied.

She waited for there to be a moment of dawning comprehension on Veronica’s face, but the look the lawyer gave her remained the same. There was a fire in those eyes that was difficult to interpret. Sara watched her closely, waiting for her to rush around the desk and shut the door or throw her out of the office. Instead Veronica asked in a level voice, “Is Lincoln in trouble or something?” The nature of the question seemed to hit her suddenly, and she held up her hand to belay a response. “Sorry. Stupid question. Linc was born in trouble.”

Sara struggled not to laugh, unsure if that was a joke or not. “I understand what you mean. But no, he’s not in trouble, at least not any more trouble than before. He wants to see you.”

Veronica looked a little shocked by that suggestion. It was difficult to read what was going on inside her head as she stared across the desk uncertainly. “You’ll have to pardon my asking, but who are you? To Lincoln, I mean. You say you work at the prison, but that doesn’t explain why you would be running errands for him.”

Sara shifted awkwardly in her chair. “I’m the prison doctor. I’ve been treating Lincoln for a few months now. Not like that. He’s not sick or anything.” She paused awkwardly. “The DOC needed to know if he was healthy or not, and the first time we talked it seemed like he might need someone to talk to.”

“Tends to happen to men in solitary,” Veronica supplied pointedly.

There was a protective fierceness to her words that took Sara off guard. “That’s true. I suppose that it would be pointless for me to say that I had nothing to do with him being in solitary.” The silence from the other side of the desk was answer enough. This was not a woman who it would be easy to explain things away to. Lincoln was a person she cared about, and no excuse Sara could give was going to explain away any mistreatment he may have received. “Right,’ Sara murmured to herself. “Look, Lincoln and I have a rather unorthodox relationship, and I have come to know certain things that someone at the prison probably shouldn’t know. Thus how I came to be here, in front of you. Lincoln can’t tell you over the phone why he needs to talk to you because you aren’t officially his lawyer.” She watched the lawyer closely to see how she was going to take that pronouncement.

Veronica gave a soft scoff. “But if I come to the prison and flash my credentials they will let us have a conversation in a room without cameras and listening devices,” the lawyer supplied, rolling her eyes. “God he’s unbelievable. Just when I think that he’s maybe grown up even just a little, he goes and proves me wrong.”

That took Sara a little by surprise. The few things she knew about this woman circled themselves through her mind. There wasn’t much there. She and Lincoln had dated. He and Michael had even lived with her family for a time. And things had ended badly between them. This woman was one of Lincoln’s many regrets, not that he had ever admitted it. That was about it; that was all she knew. “You lost me a little bit,” she said. “I got the impression a moment ago you cared. Now not so much.”

The look on the lawyer’s face was impossible to read. “I’ll always love Lincoln. Not something I would expect you to understand,” The look she shot Sara left no room for argument. This was not something she was willing to debate. “So, I will always care, but our relationship is complicated. And over for a long time now.” Her eyes cast towards the open door. “That’s probably what they all say, right? It was another part of my life, and it’s over now? I’m not ashamed that I knew him once or that he was the first boy I ever loved. As far as it can be, it’s true. I don’t exactly bring him up in polite conversation, but my fiancé knows about us.” She sighed heavily and glanced toward the door again. “I don’t know what Lincoln told you, but things didn’t end well between us. We grew up in hell together, and it did different things to the both of us. I mean it did different things to Michael too. That’s Lincoln’s brother,” she supplied as an afterthought.

“I’ve met Michael,” Sara said, the queen of understatements.

There was something in Veronica’s eyes that told Sara that the other woman had caught a glimpse of the true weight of that statement but neither one commented on it. “Well, let’s just say we went in different directions. It’s not that Linc is a bad guy. Funny thing to say about a man on death row, I know, but it’s true for the most part. Anyway, growing up he just always had someone that needed him. First it was his brother, and then it was his kid. That one was hard to forgive, but we got past it eventually, for a time. There was always someone who he was taking care of. While I just had me, so I could focus on what I wanted, who I needed to be. Lincoln always had Michael and then LJ. Which, like I said, I forgave him for. But then I go off to college and come home to discover that he and Lisa are trying to make a go at it or something. Didn’t work out between them, but it was still the end of us. The thing is, I never imagined that he would be the kind of guy that would try to drag me into whatever illegal activity he’s managed to get himself into now.” She shook her head. “He always kept that life separate from me and Michael. Well, more me than Michael.”

Sara paused for a long moment, trying to collect her thoughts into words. How was she supposed to explain this? “It’s not actually anything that Lincoln has done. Oddly he’s trying to stop a crime from happening. He said that he needs legal advice from someone he can trust. That’s all. I wouldn’t be here if I thought that it was otherwise.” She paused again. “So, will you come?”

Veronica sighed loudly an uneasy expression on her face. “You swear this is legit? That he isn’t up to something.”

“I can only tell you what I know, which is that Lincoln claims to be concerned about his brother, about what he might be up to. Though I won’t say how I know this, I can confirm that there is a basis for this concern, and by flirting with the line that is doctor patient confidentiality, I will say that I believe that his concern is genuine. They have an interesting relationship, Michael and Lincoln, but I doubt I need to tell you that. Now, what Lincoln actually wishes to speak with you about, I cannot confirm. He says it’s about Michael though. Ultimately, you need to make the best choice for you. I told him that I would come talk to you, and I have now done that. There isn’t anything else that I can do.” Sara rose from her seat. “I appreciate you taking to time to speak with me. Hopefully everything that can be worked out will be.” She paused in the doorway. “And I’m very sorry, by the way, about your friend.”

Veronica frowned at her. “You know, you actually say that like you care.”

Sara cleared her throat. What was she supposed to say to that? “Let’s just say that the situation is more complicated than you would imagine.”

“Because you’ve met Michael?” Veronica asked pointedly. There was something suggestive in the way the lawyer was looking at her. It made Sara uncomfortable.

She took a deep breath and closed the door behind her. After a moment she chose to ignore the question. “There was something that you said about Lincoln pulling Michael into his criminal activity. What did you mean? That doesn’t sound like something Lincoln would do.”

Veronica raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh it wasn’t like that.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “It was the money, all that money he owed. It was for Michael, to send him to school. When their mother died, she left them with nothing, but Michael was smart and deserved to go to college. At least that’s how Lincoln saw it.” She chuckled a little. “Why am I not surprised that Lincoln has never told you though? He’s not really the sharing type after all.”

The words caught Sara off guard. “Does Michael know that? Because that would explain a lot.”

Veronica sat up in her chair properly, leaning across the desk toward Sara who still stood at the door. “Explain what exactly?” she asked curiously.

Sara shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to talk to Lincoln and find out.” The words sounded harsh as they came out of her mouth. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just say I have my own issues that I have to deal with at the moment. But I told Lincoln I would come, and I’ve done that now. The rest is up to you.” She turned and left before Veronica could respond. It was time to prepare for another uncomfortable conversation.

***

Sara was the first one to arrive, and she was very careful to choose a table that would require them to sit across from each other with as many tables around them as possible. She glanced at the ultrasound picture again, just to remind herself what all of this was about, then set it face down on the table by her water. It was always better to do these things in a public place, more witnesses, witnesses would help. That had sounded like a good idea when she had first made this plan, but suddenly she remembered the first time they had ever gone out together. She shuttered at the memory of Michael’s hand between her legs. There had been witnesses present then too, and not strangers either. Definitely best to have him across the table. She couldn’t let herself get distracted. Thus the restaurant with the bright lights and lots of people. What he could do to her was limited in a public place. She hoped. As long as she stayed focused on the reason she was here, everything would be fine. She had even been careful to resist the urge to go home and change after work. There was nothing that she wore to the prison that might further any ideas he might have. Some of the other things she normally wore out with him were too tight now anyway. And that’s why she was here. To tell him. She needed to remember that. With a sigh she saw him walking toward her, looking better than ever. Or was that just the hormones? She sighed again. “This is surprising,” he said once he was within earshot. “I thought speaking to each other was against the rules. And in public no less. That was even against the old rules.”

Going out together had been, technically. She had made that rule after he had fingered her while sitting at the same table as a number of his coworkers. It had seemed wise to keep their time together in the privacy of their own homes after that. Without meaning to her mind automatically started counting the weeks from when that had happened. Had it been long enough? Was that the night? “We should talk,” she replied, hoping that her voice held strong.

“Ahh,” he said wisely before taking the seat across from her. “What should we talk about?”

It irked her that he was so casual as he plopped down in the chair across from her. He was supposed to be contrite, at least apologize for everything, for the way he had used her. “I’m being serious Michael. You’re brother suspects you’re still…”

“Still what exactly?” There was a dangerous look in his eyes. So maybe this wasn’t nearly as funny to him as he was letting on. “Look, Linc just likes to worry, thinks it’s his job as my big brother, but I have everything under control.”

She sighed loudly, taking in his appearance. Despite his words, he didn’t appear to be much in control of anything at the moment. He was working hard to put up some kind of front just for her. It was all very infuriating. All this time she had been racked with guilt, unsure what she should do with the knowledge she had about his plans, and he was acting like this was a game. “Why can’t you take this seriously? Do you think that I want to be here, after everything you’ve done?” She leaned across the table and hissed at him. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.

To her further annoyance he rolled his eyes. “Because that is the part I was assigned by you, in case you’ve forgotten. We do this, whatever this is, no feelings, no going out in public together, and when you have a change of heart, I’m supposed to talk you out of it. Because every time you have said, we can’t do this anymore, you always regret it in the morning. And I always get to be the bad guy. I get to be the one who hurt you, while you have no regard for how you may have hurt me for months. You used me and then tossed me aside the second it became inconvenient for you.”

“I hate you,” she muttered. That wasn’t true, right? She hadn’t just used him.

Michael sighed loudly. “You like the way I know exactly what you need though. And we both know that was the real reason you called me. So, why are we here? Are you feeling adventurous? You want to skip dinner and go fuck in my car, or would you prefer that I just bend you over the counter in the bathroom?”

She gulped at the suggestions. Yes. She wanted to do both those things right now; she could feel herself starting to get wet at the thought. Damn hormones! By the dark look in his eyes, he suspected what she was thinking. It took a lot of effort to hold firm. “I can’t do that anymore. That’s not why I called you.”

He nodded as if he agreed but made no move to leave her alone. “So we’ll eat first. I can play along.”

The comment came out playful, but Sara didn’t have a chance to respond before he was flagging down a waiter so they could order. She muttered her order to the guy standing by their table and handed over her menu, but other than that she wasn’t inclined to speak. This was the exact opposite of how she expected this to go. It was supposed to be simple. Well, maybe not simple but not this either. What was wrong with him? He had looked so upset the last time she had seen him. Had she hurt him after all? In her anger and confusion, she had just stormed out of his apartment with no regard to how it might affect him. And then she had called him out of the blue and told him he had to meet her. She sighed loudly. Part of her was glad that he was here. Though that wasn’t a part of herself that she needed to be listening to. “How have you been?” she asked. It was probably better to start with pleasantries, keeping things nice.

The look he gave her was impossible to read. “I’ve been fine. Is that what I’m supposed to say? I haven’t thought about you at all since you just vanished from my life like I was nothing at all.”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that simple,” she muttered. “You’re leaving out a few details about why I left. You lied to me, manipulated me.”

For the first time that night he actually looked sorry. He shifted awkwardly in his seat. “That wasn’t how it was. If you had stayed and let me explain I would have told you that I…” He trailed off after giving her a sheepish look. “It was just for Lincoln. I never wanted to hurt you. And it kills me that you will never believe that.”

Sara scoffed at that. He could be so insufferable sometimes, and his words made her uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said quietly enough that Michael was the only one that could hear her.

He shrugged. “You’re the one that invited me out. Probably because you thought I would behave if we were in public.” She shot him a sharp look at that. “See? I do know you.” He leaned across the table so he could lower his voice enough that his words wouldn’t carry to their neighbors. “How wet are you right now? I bet you were already glistening for me before you called me to suggest this little outing. You’ve been thinking about this all day.”

She felt her jaw clench. It was like every time it seemed he was opening up, being the person she had known just a couple of weeks ago, this asshole reared his ugly head. “You ever heard of taking no for an answer?” she asked pointedly.

“I will when you actually say no.” He leaned back and put a serious expression on his face. “Look, you want to say that you only came here to talk, that’s fine. No one is going to make you come home with me after this, but we both know that you’re going to. No matter how many times you tried to say that we shouldn’t do this or that it’s wrong, we still did it. Do you know why? Because it turned you on. I’m willing to play my part in that, let you use me as if I don’t have feelings of my own, even though I think that I made it clear that I like you.”

She scoffed. “You like what’s between my legs; you don’t even know me other than that.”

Michael rolled his eyes again. “Because you had a rule about personal questions. Every time I tried to get to know you better, you shut me down, reminded me that if I keep pushing that would be the end of us.” He paused and sighed. When he spoke again his tone was softer. “I admit that I think with my dick a lot when it comes to you, but I am willing to use other parts of my body to think of you too. I used to, still do. When I met you at that nice restaurant you father took you to, and then again at that dinner the he put together, I was intrigued by you. You’re confidence for one thing. And then the way you laid into that chick sitting across from you and treated me like a person even though you knew who my brother was, I liked that. I wanted to know you better, and when I saw you again, I was happy. Then all of this started, and you decided that the only part of me that you could have was my dick. And I adjusted to that reality, but you don’t get to blame me when that was your choice. Had you taken the time to know me, maybe you would have understood what I was working on.”

There was a long moment of silence between them where Sara tried to process what he’d said. No, it couldn’t be. He had only slept with her for the plan. It had never been about anything more than that. “You can’t like me,” she finally said.

“It’s that hard to believe that I have feelings for you?” He sat there acting like he was the one who had to right to be angry.

She sighed. “Not like that. I’m sure that you are more than capable of having feelings for a woman, even me. I mean, you can’t have feelings for me. It’s not allowed. That was the deal that we made, no feelings. Because this has always had a timer on it.” He rolled his eyes again. The reality of what she was saying hit her. “That’s why you never cared that I worked at the prison, that I would play a part in executing your brother.”

“Because I don’t intend to let my brother die!” It was the angriest she had ever seen him. “You can hate me for that if you must, but I will stand by and do nothing while he dies.”

There was something about the way he said that that unnerved her. She knew what that meant, knew that there was no limit to how far he would go. Suddenly she regretted doing this. A part of her had hoped, had wondered if maybe finding out about the baby would change things, but that didn’t seem likely now. And the baby mattered. “I was serious before. I mean it. Whatever you’re up to, I can’t be that woman. I had hoped, Lincoln hoped, that maybe you would forget about this.” She sighed loudly. “There are things going on, things you don’t understand. I can’t help you.”

It was clearly a struggle for him to keep his voice low. “I never asked you to. Had you stuck around long enough, you would have learned that you were never really a part of the plan. Maybe it’s easy for you, but I can’t just stand by and let them murder my brother for something that he didn’t even do.”

Sara cast a look around them to make sure they weren’t drawing too much attention. No one seemed to be paying them any mind. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Is that what he told you or what you believe? Because Lincoln has never told me that he was innocent. It’s easy to remember since he’s pretty much the only con I’ve treated who has never once claimed to have been framed.”

Michael looked uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Even if he did it, he’s only in prison because of me.”

That took a moment to sink in. What Veronica told her earlier hit Sara suddenly. So it was about the money. “I’m pretty sure that your brother is in prison because of his own choices. And he wouldn’t want you to make similar ones.”

He scoffed at that. “Here I thought that you were different, that you saw the big picture.”

Was that what she had been doing? All those months she was tangled up with both of them, was she just trying to see the whole story? “I do Michael; I don’t think that you do. Your brother was dealt a bad hand. His whole life has pretty much sucked, but at some point he chose. Sure, he never asked for his father to walk out on him when he was little or for his mother to clearly care about him less than she cared about his brother, a fact made even worse by her premature death. But he did choose to act out and get into trouble. He’s spent a larger portion of his adult life behind bars than he’s ever been free. Now, I do believe that those early experiences played a part in those choices, something your brother finds ridiculous by the way, but just because he had a bad life, that doesn’t absolve him of choosing petty theft over gainful employment. You of all people should understand that since you clearly chose differently until now.”

The look on his face wasn’t hard to read. Clearly he had thought much the same about his brother, and the thought disgusted him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said instead.

“Then explain it to me. What is there that I don’t know? Why are you so sure that his choices are your fault?” She waited patiently for him to tell her about the money, to open up to her like he claimed he had been trying to do.

His mouth opened and closed for a long time before he was finally able to put his thoughts into words. “I think that this is why we don’t talk. You said it before, food always brings out the worst in us. It always ends one of two ways, and since this is clearly not leading to the bedroom, we have to fight, right?” It looked like he was about to add something else, but the waiter showed up with their food at that moment, forcing them both into silence while they picked at their food for a while.

Sara sighed loudly. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She had just wanted to tell him, but now she couldn’t find the words. What made it all worse were the tears she could feel welling up in her eyes. “You’re right,” she said, trying hard not to cry. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have expected that we could have an adult conversation.” It was difficult to hold back the tears for a moment. “Look, things are more complicated than you know. But if you want to just be an ass, then I guess I will just go.” With that she rose from the table and left without a backward glance. It had all been a mistake. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered softly, a hand straying to her stomach. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

***

Michael watched her walk away from the table with a frown. Why had he been such an ass? He had spent days obsessing over what she wanted to talk to him about, but the second he had seen her, it had been difficult to deny just how much she had hurt him. And now he had only made things worse. She had run off without telling him whatever it was that she had needed to say. Of that he was sure. Now he would never know. She really was gone forever. That was what he had wanted, right? To push her away before he gave into his feeling for her again? Why couldn’t he have just been normal for once in his life and not react inappropriately to every situation he found himself in? He could have just been honest, that they couldn’t get involved again. But now that she was gone, that really didn’t sound like what she had been going for with this dinner. Her words echoed in his head. What had she meant that things were more complicated than he knew? What could have been more complicated than the situation they were in? There had been something off with her, something different that he couldn’t put his finger on. With a sigh he rose from the table. Those were just questions he would have to content himself with never knowing. He threw some money on the table and headed toward the door, almost making it before their waiter caught up to him. “Hey, I think you left this,” the man said, holding out a small white square toward Michael. “This was on the table by where your date sat.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” Michael replied even as he grabbed the object.

The waiter shrugged and walked off, his mission clearly done in his mind. Michael frowned at him as he walked away. What was the point in bringing him a blank bit of paper that Sara had left behind? But the thing in his hand did not feel like paper but like a picture. Why would she have left a picture behind? He sighed and looked down at it carefully, first the blank side then the other. And he froze. He tilted his head to the side, trying to view the focal point of the photo from another angle. There was no denying what the picture was of. Was this what she meant when she said things were more complicated than he realized? It felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. His legs carried him out of the restaurant on autopilot, the only thing he was capable of thinking of the photo still clutched in his hand.

His thoughts were interrupted as her apartment building came into sight. He had walked all the way there without even realizing. There had to have been something he had come to say, but all thought was pushed from his mind by sight of the buzzer. It was late, and she was unlikely to want to talk to him after the way that he had acted at dinner. He gave a quick glance down to the ultrasound picture he held. He had to at least try to talk to her now, try to make things right. Reluctantly he reached out and pushed the button for her apartment, praying she would be willing to talk to him still. “Yes?” she asked tentatively.

He found it difficult to speak for a moment. “It’s Michael. Will you let me up?”

He spent a long moment standing at the speaker while she was probably debating that very question before she finally buzzed him through without a word. While he made his way up the stairs toward her door he wondered what he could possibly say after he had been such an ass at dinner, Even though he knew that it was necessary, it was with some reluctance that he knocked. “Thanks,” he said sheepishly when the door swung open and he saw her.

It was clear that she was about to go to bed by the sweats she wore. He kicked himself for not waiting until morning to try and talk to her. But he was already here. “What’s this about?” she asked after a long pause. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. But she stepped aside to let him in all the same.

He cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry about dinner. You were right in a way. Things are complicated. And Lincoln did make all those choices himself, but he didn’t really have much of a choice when you think about it. Everything he’s ever done was to give me a better life. I can’t just abandon him.”

Sara nodded. "I know that you are just trying to make the best out of a bad situation, but he would want you to remember that he made all those sacrifices to give you a better life, like you said. He doesn’t want you to do anything that might jeopardize that. I think he’d rather die than see you in prison too.” By the look on her face, he could tell that she had said something that she should have. Had Lincoln said that to her? Michael didn’t have the chance to ask before she was going on. “Now, was apologizing the only reason that you came by?” she asked, her jaw set to show him that she was still upset with him.

He frowned for a moment, unsure what he was supposed to say. His fingers brushed against the photo he’d shoved his pocket. “I wanted to see what you wanted to tell me. What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

She shrugged, a determined look on her face. “It wasn’t important.”

The words hurt in a way he couldn’t put into words. Did she really have no intention of telling him? He had messed things up so bad that she wasn’t interested in even letting him know that he was going to be a father. He cleared his throat again. “What you said about things being complicated, that was just about you and me, right? Maybe Lincoln a little too. But there wasn’t anything else?”

There was a panicked look in her eyes. Was she wondering if he knew? Or was the look on her face about something else? “What else could there be?” she asked.

He nodded. “You know, I never wanted to lie to you about Lincoln. I hope that you can understand that. I mean, we’ve known each other a few months, and I care about you, I do, but he’s my brother. Hurting you was never the plan. But if I have to choose, I will always pick my family over everyone else. Maybe that’s because I don’t have a lot of family left.” She flinched at his words. He went on with a sigh, not really sure where the words were coming from. “You know, when I was a little boy, I used to wonder about my father. Who he was. What he was like. Where he was since he wasn’t with me. My mother never talked about him. She’d never so much as speak his name. I thought it was because he had hurt her when he left. And maybe he did. But sometimes, when I would think about him, I would wonder if he even knew about me. Maybe he hadn't meant to leave me at all. Maybe she had never even told him. And he was out there somewhere, maybe even wishing he had a boy like me.” He gave a harsh laugh from somewhere deep inside. “But that was always just a child’s fantasies, wishful thinking.” He caught a glimpse of the worried look on her face. “But you’re not my therapist. I shouldn’t be unloading all of that on you.” There was a moment where he stood there, debating whether or not he should just tell her he knew. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “I should let you get some sleep. I just wanted to come apologize for how I acted at dinner. I meant what I said, that you hurt me too. And admittedly, I didn’t handle it well. That wasn’t fair to you. After all, you have every right to be upset with me.” He nodded again and just stared at her for a moment before he turned and walked away. And when he went, he took the picture of their baby with him. Even he could have nothing else, he would at least have that.

***

Lincoln sat with his back to the door and waited. Well, she had agreed to come at least. Even with the doc being the one to deliver the message, he was still afraid that Veronica wasn’t going to be willing to hear him out. She certainly had reason enough not come. As he waited he tried to rack his brain for the last time he had seen her. How many years had it been now since they were in the same room? It had already been a long time before he had ended up back in prison. LJ had been really little, and she hadn’t even finished law school yet. Had it really been that long? And she wasn’t even coming to see him now. This was for Michael. Because he had managed to mess things up so bad that she didn’t want to see him even when he was so close to death. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer. He would be gone for good soon.

The door opened behind him, and he had to resist the urge to turn around and look at her. A sudden panic seized him. What if this didn’t work? What if he drug her here, and she wouldn’t be willing to help? What if she just wrote Michael off too? He glanced up as she came into view, hoping that his concerns weren’t noticeable on his face. “Veronica,” he said simply.

“Lincoln,” she replied with a soft sigh as she sat across from him.

Now was the awkward part. He had rehearsed this over and over again. All he needed was to convince her to help him save Michael. Everything else would have to wait for another time. More amends that he needed to make before he died. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure that you’re wondering why I asked to see you.”

Veronica frowned at him from across the table. Had she been frowning at him the last time they had seen each other too? He wouldn’t be surprised if she had been. All their lives he had been disappointing her, upsetting her, and now he was dragging her back into his mess. The way she sighed and glanced at him uncertainly did not help to ease the tension between them. “That woman you sent to talk to me, the prison doctor, she said it was about Michael. I don’t know why we’d need to talk about your brother, but I figured that we had known each other long enough to at least hear what you have to say.” She paused for a moment something unease in the way she stared at him. “You know, you could have just asked to see me instead of lying to get me here.” The last bit was said quietly, like she wasn’t sure that they were words she should say.

Lincoln frowned. “I didn’t lie, actually. I really do need to talk to you about Michael. There’s something going on with him that you don’t know about.” She scoffed softly, “No, really. Let me guess, lately you haven’t seen him much. He’s been too busy with work. Every time you try to get together there is some excuse why he can’t come.”

“It’s Michael. He’s always busy with work. That isn’t really news.”

He watched her for a moment, not sure how he should explain. “It’s not so much that he’s been busy as what he has been busy with.” He paused for a moment, trying to put his words into some sort of order. “I’m not really sure when he started,” Lincoln began, “but for a while now Mike has been planning to break me out. When I found out, I told him to stop. I swear.”

She held up a hand to halt the rest of his speech. “When you say that he has been planning to break you out, you mean out of prison? Out of this prison? Lincoln that is insane. There is no way he could do something like that.”

“And that was my point. He’d never succeed.”

She sat across from him looking thunderstruck. “That doesn’t sound like your brother. He wouldn’t do something that stupid.” She paused for a moment, the wheels in her brain clearly turning. “He wouldn’t right? I mean, he is your brother. Stupidity is said to be hereditary.”

Lincoln laughed mockingly. “Hilarious.”

There was an awkward moment where they sat there looking at each other across the table before she shook her head. “Wait, you’re serious?”

He nodded. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he won’t listen to me. At this point there only thing I could think to do was talk to someone who might be able to talk some sense into him. I would ask the doc, but she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Not that I can blame her. But that’s not the point. I need you to talk to Michael, convince him to let this go.” He looked around him for a moment, the rest of his words hard to say. “I would rather die than see him throw his life away on me. Please tell me that you will talk to him.”

She watched him for a long time, uncertainty written on her face. “You know that I’m willing to, but Lincoln, you know that Michael won’t just let this go. Your brother is even more stubborn than you are, and if he’s set himself to this task, it’s possible that even I won’t be able to persuade him.”

“Just as long as you try. That’s all I ask.”

Veronica nodded though there was still an uncertainty in her eyes that worried him. This had to work. She had to be able to convince Michael to abandon this insane plan of his. If not, there was no telling what kind of trouble he might end up in, and that was the last thing that Lincoln wanted for his brother.

***

Michael sat at the counter examining the image on the screen closely. Eight weeks, that seemed to be the one that looked the most like the picture. So she was eight weeks along. Or had been at least. When had the ultrasound picture been taken? How long had she known? It had to be after she had found out about the plan. Of that he was sure. So when had she started to suspect? The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. With a frown Michael went to see who was at the door. The image of Veronica on the monitor took him a little by surprise, but he buzzed her up without a second thought. “This is unexpected,” he said as she walked through the door.

There was something odd about the way she was looking around his apartment, refusing to meet his gaze. He followed her into the apartment, waiting for her to explain what was going on. “I was hoping to talk to you,” she said after a long moment. “I went to go see Lincoln.”

That was even more surprising. As far as Michael knew, she had made it pretty clear that she did not want to see his brother. “Please tell me he wasn’t an ass to you.” Even as he said it the memory of the disastrous dinner with Sara came vividly to mind. “The men in this family have a tendency to lash out when hurting. Lincoln especially.”

The look she gave him was odd, she was on the verge of saying something that she was unsure about that much was clear. “He wanted to talk about you actually.” She gave him another uncertain look out of the corner of her eye. “Something about you trying to break him out of prison.”

Michael stood there frozen for a moment, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Why would Lincoln have said something to her about it? The last they had spoken about it, his brother had been pretty upset that Sara had found out about the escape. Now his brother had brought his ex-girlfriend into the situation. Not sure what he was supposed to say, Michael chose to lie. “I’m not sure where he would have gotten an idea like that.” The look on her face told him that she wasn’t buying it. “Look, I know what you are going to say, but he’s my brother. I’m not going to just stand by and let him die. And before you try, there is nothing that you can say that will convince me otherwise.” He shot her an uneasy look out of the corner of his eye. “I have other things that are currently causing enough trouble on that front.”

Veronica sighed and continued her trek into his apartment without so much as a glance in his direction. He had no choice but to follow her. When he found her she was standing at the kitchen counter staring at the open screen of his laptop. “Something you need to tell me?” she asked once she became aware of his presence.

He contemplated going to close the computer, but in the end decided that would look even more suspicious. “No,” he replied after much consideration. “I thought you came here to say something. So what is it?”

She sighed again and turned back to him reluctantly. “Yes,” she said, “you cannot break your brother out of prison. Not only is it dangerous and reckless and unlikely to work, your brother has told you to stop. He even called me to convince you to stop. That is how desperate he was, he called me, someone that he probably never wanted to see again. There, said my piece on that. Back to that.” She pointed at the computer screen.

Yet again he had to resist the urge to go close the laptop. “That is nothing,” he said, in his best nonchalant voice. But his eyes flicking between her and the computer gave away the lie in his words.

“I wasn’t aware you were pregnant Michael. And just when you had all these important plans too.” She was even laughing at that, like any of this was funny.

Unable to stand it any longer, he went to shut the computer. “This is not something we’re going to discuss,” he said with a sigh. “There is nothing to discuss anyway.”

She frowned heavily. “I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Apparently you haven’t been all that busy planning to break Lincoln out as he seems to think.” She was no longer laughing, but there was still an amusement in her eyes that he did not appreciate. “So who’s the girl?”

Michael glared at her for a second, one hand resting on the top of the screen, so close to removing the image from view. What was he supposed to say? Did he tell her the truth? That almost sounded nice. Maybe he should. After a moment of thought he cleared his throat. “It’s complicated. I got distracted, clearly. But I’m sure that I will find a way to save my brother, no matter what I have to do.”

“And this?” She pointed to the screen again. “You don’t think that this is an impediment to committing multiple felonies and living the rest of your life on the run? Lincoln didn’t say anything about this.” She paused for a moment, surveying his face carefully. “Because he doesn’t know,” she muttered. “Why haven’t you told him?”

Michael sighed heavily, “Because I just found out. And I don’t actually know.” He frowned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not sure how he was supposed to respond. “If I tell him, he will tell Sara I know, and I’m not sure that I’m ready to have that conversation.”

Veronica was watching him closely again, obviously working to put the pieces together. She pointed to the screen again. “Sara?” she asked. “Like Sara Tancredi, the prison doctor? Does Lincoln know that?” Once more, she must have gotten the answer from the expression on his face. “Oh, that he knows. But not that you got her pregnant. And she doesn’t know that you know. Right. Because that makes so much sense.” She shook her head and even laughed a little again, a humorless laugh that told him she was just as lost as he was. “Michael, what the hell are you going to do?”

But if he had known the answer to that question, he would have done it by now instead of trying to get the answers from a computer screen. All he really knew was that he needed to figure it out soon before it was all too late.


	8. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here it is, the last chapter. I'm sorry that it took a few days longer than originally expected, but hopefully you guys enjoy it. I am going to start work on the epilogue very soon, and that will definitely be done and posted on November 30th. I really appreciate every one of you who has stuck with this fic, and I hope that you guys are still excited to see how it all comes to an end. As always, I am very interested in what you guys think. Enjoy.

Chapter 7: May

The smell was getting to her. Sara tried not to react. No matter how many times they had scrubbed the room, the smell of rotten food remained. Was it only in her mind, or did it actually smell in here? She hadn’t read anything about pregnant women sensing smells that weren’t there, but she would have sworn that the odor lingered beneath the many layers of bleach all the same. She barely trusted herself to speak. “How are you Lincoln?” she asked carefully. This close to the execution date everything needed to be done carefully.

The man shrugged. He was back in the shackles, like he had been every other time they had spoken, so he rattled faintly as he moved. The sound cut Sara to the bone. It took a tremendous effort for her not to reach down and lay a hand on her stomach. It was months still until the baby would be born, and the reminder that she was sitting so near a member of their family that they would never get to meet was forever at the forefront of her mind. She found it difficult to be here, but there was nothing else that could be done. They had an agreement, she would stay until the end. And then she would just have to figure out how to explain this to her child one day. Though he had no clue about that particular struggle in her mind. He was watching her closely though. “You okay doc?” he asked, tilting his head to one side to survey her.

“Fine,” she muttered, barely able to open her mouth for fear that she might puke. It took a tremendous effort, but she managed to give him a weak smile.

He spied her suspiciously again. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

She nodded, unsure how she was supposed to take that. Was that an insult? Was it concern? And she did feel sick. What she wouldn’t give for the days when she didn’t have morning sickness at all, but since her disastrous dinner with Michael, it had been plaguing her pretty much continually. It made her wonder if it wasn’t actually morning sickness at all. Was this what guilt felt like, a consistent ache in the stomach that would not dissipate? Just her luck, her child was already punishing her for her failings. Silently she whispered to the baby that things were more complicated than they realized. The tension in her gut did not dissipate any. She racked her brain for a way to explain away her drawn appearance. Nothing came to mind. She opened her mouth to speak and immediately had to dive for the toilet. There was a small groan behind her as she puked. Not the best start they had ever had. “Sorry,” she muttered as she wiped her mouth. The toilet flushed away the evidence, but she could still smell the vomit in the air. Hopefully that was just the pregnancy senses kicking in. If he could still smell anything he said nothing.

The look he was giving her was clearly concerned as she settled back at the table. She racked her brain for a way to explain what had happened, just in case he asked, but it was not a subject she was interested in entertaining if she could avoid it. Lying to Lincoln had felt different since his breakdown. No matter how many times she told herself that it wasn’t really her affair with Michael that had driven him to madness, however temporary it seemed, she found it hard to believe. Since then she had found herself weighing her words, trying to ensure that everything she said to him was unlikely to push him over the edge again. If he asked her now if she was okay, she wasn’t sure that she could lie. “I am really sorry about that,” she said again, with what she hoped could pass for a bright smile.

He still looked thrown off by the display. “Do you need to go?” he asked. His voice was concerned, his face worried.

“No, I’m fine,” she muttered, pulling out her notebook. “What would you like to discuss?”

He eyed her carefully, “You aren’t contagious are you? Because I would rather not spend the last couple of weeks of my life with the stomach flu. No offence.”

His words made her freeze. What could she say that would alleviate his concerns that didn’t give away the true cause of her illness? Her mind was blank when she needed it the most. “I promise you that there is nothing to worry about. What I have isn’t communicable.” He shot her a questioning look. “You can’t catch it.”

He nodded but still did not look completely at ease. There were wheels turning behind his eyes, but he let the subject drop for the moment. “Veronica came to see me,” he said instead.

Sara was unsure if she was surprised or not. The lawyer had been difficult to read. “That’s good, I guess,” she said slowly. “Did she agree to talk to Michael?” Saying his name made her stomach lurch unpleasantly. Maybe it was guilt after all.

Lincoln was eyeing her oddly. “She’s already talked to him. Seemed to think that there was already something distracting him from the plan. Some big secret that she didn’t want to talk about over the phone. I thought maybe you might know.”

She tried to rack her brain for what could be diverting Michael from breaking out his brother. The only thing that came to mind was the downtown project, but something told her that he wouldn’t place it over Lincoln. “Honestly, I don’t. I haven’t seen your brother lately.” That was kind of true. It had been a couple of weeks since they had spoken, since she had decided not to tell him about the baby after all. The thought seized her suddenly. “What else did Veronica say about this secret?” she asked, extremely careful to keep her voice even. Her stomach lurched again, but she didn’t think it was just guilt this time.

He shrugged. “Just that it was big and that it could be a way to convince him to abandon the plan after all.”

As he spoke Michael’s words after the dinner came back to her. What had he been talking about? She racked her brain. His father, a subject they had never broached before. He had been acting strange, rambling on. There was something he’d said that bothered her. His words hit her suddenly, and she found herself speaking before she could consider how Lincoln might take her words. “What can you tell me about Michael’s father?”

The question caught Lincoln off guard. He stared at her in shock for a moment. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Sara took a moment to consider what her thoughts were hinting to. “Just humor me for a second,” she said slowly as she pieced it altogether. “I guess my question isn’t so much about Michael’s father as it is about your mother. Did she ever talk about him? Or did your brother ever tell you anything he may have learned about him?”

He looked uneasy, the wheels behind his eyes turning again. “Never,” he said suspiciously. “Certainly not in front of me and if she ever told Mike anything, he never told me. Why?” The tone he said the last part in told her she was expected to answer.

Reluctantly she answered honestly, or as honestly as she dared. “I spoke with your brother about two weeks ago, give or take. I was only trying to help. I had thought that maybe I could convince him or at least lend another voice to the mix. Maybe if it was coming from multiple people at once it would be easier to convince him to abandon the plan to break you out.” She paused and wondered how to go on. “I was not successful. He told me that family was important and that he didn’t have a lot of it left. He also mentioned his father, the first time he ever had to me. I was just curious.”

Lincoln surveyed her again. “Not good enough. There has to be another reason why you’re suddenly so curious.”

“He said that he used to wonder if his father even knew he existed, if your mother ever told him.” The words were out of her mouth before she even knew she had spoken. She cleared her throat. “Did he ever mention that to you?”

“No.” He was looking at her oddly, like she had grown another head.

The answer wasn’t what she had expected, but it was what she had feared. Silently she tried to remember everything that had happened between them that night. Had she said something, done something that would have prompted that confession, a secret he had never even told his brother? Or had he never thought that at all? A thought hit her suddenly. Was he telling her something? She played his words over again. ‘But sometimes, when I would think about him, I would wonder if he even knew about me. Maybe he hadn’t meant to leave me at all. Maybe she had never even told him.’ There was a sinking feeling in her gut. He knew. But how? “I have to go,” she said suddenly. “I am so sorry, but I really am feeling unwell. Is it okay if I come back tomorrow?”

He nodded, but there was an uneasiness about the way he stared as his eyes followed her out of the cell.

 

The noise outside of his office caught Michael’s attention. He had barely looked up from the blueprints on his desk when the door to his office swung open to admit someone. “You can’t just barge in,” Lola shouted from her desk.

The person who had stormed into his office responded with a grunt and slammed the door without a word. It wasn’t until the figure turned toward him that his brain was able to process that the person standing mere feet from his desk was Sara. Instinctively his eyes flicked down to her midriff. She wasn’t showing yet, at least not that he could tell, but knowing that his child was in there was enough for him to remember to try and keep things civil. He struggled to pull his eyes back up to her face and found her glaring at him. “Sara,” he said calmly. “Is everything alight?”

Her nostrils flared. He wondered what he could have possibly done to make her so angry at him all of a sudden. They hadn’t even spoken since their brief conversation after dinner weeks ago, and he had respected her insistence that he keep his distance. Not that it had been easy. Knowing the truth about what was going on had made it difficult to stay away, but he had managed it, just barely. Now here she was angry at him for some reason. If anybody had a right to be angry it was him, but he worked hard not to show it. “This is unexpected,” he said instead of all the things he wished he could say.

Her breath came out in a huff. “Is there something that you need to tell me?” she hissed.

That was what he wanted to ask her. She was still standing by the door glaring at him like he was the one who had hurt her, like he was the one who was in the wrong. He had to grit his teeth to keep from losing his temper. Now was not the time to yell and show that he was upset. Eventually they were going to have to find a way to work on having a child together, and it would be so much easier if she didn’t have yet another bad memory to hold against him. He took a deep breath. “I’m not sure that I know what you’re talking about.”

A deep sigh came from deep within her chest. “I’m not in the mood for games. You have something that belongs to me.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. The realization of what she was likely asking for had him clenching his teeth again. Did she know that he knew her secret? Or their secret rather. Had she really come all the way over here in the middle of the day to get the sonogram picture back without even an apology for hiding it from him? “And what would that be?” he asked carefully.

Her hand tightened around the door handle. Even from behind the desk he could see the way her knuckles bulged as she tried to control her anger. “I mean it. You stole my property, and I want it back now.”

Michael took a deep breath. It was important to keep an even temper. “Maybe we need to sit down and have a conversation like adults instead of sniping at each other.” She shot him a particularly scathing look. “It’s probably a good idea before either of us say something we don’t mean.”

“You had no right…” she began.

“I had every right.” The force of his voice obviously shocked her by the way she took a half step back. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Please, Sara, have a seat. Let’s talk about this. It’s well past time that we have a conversation.”

She scoffed but walked over and took a seat across the desk from him. “There is nothing for us to discuss. I thought that I might be able to do this with you, but I can’t. It’s that simple. You’re not involved, and that is never going to change. So, give me back my property, and I can get as far away from you as possible.”

“No.”

The breath she took was audible. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Do you just enjoy making my life a living hell or something? Or is this some sort of punishment? That’s what this is, isn’t it, a punishment. You want to get back at me for not agreeing to help you break out your brother.”

“No, I want to have a relationship with our child.” He sighed heavily. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Her silence was answer enough. “And then what, eighteen years from now some kid I’ve never met is going to knock on my door wanting to know why I was never around?”

She was still glaring at him. “That won’t be an issue, I assure you, because the baby will never know about you.” A pained expression crossed her face suddenly, almost like she was trying not to get sick. “It sounds harsh, I know, but there is no place that you can fit. How can we have a kid together knowing that you set out to use me, manipulate me, and ruin my life? How do we explain that to them?”

Michael sat back in his chair and chewed over his words. It would be so easy to just lay into her, but the guilt he felt over what he’d done ate at him. He had hurt her. Even if he hadn’t meant to, the pain he had caused her was still real. Despite all that he had no intention of just walking away. “What I said about my father that night was true. I did use to wonder about him, where he was, what he was like, if he ever thought about me. Our kid will be the same if I’m not around, and I refuse to let that be their story.” Her eyes narrowed. He would have given anything in that moment to know what was going on in her mind. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry for everything. I know that you don’t believe this, but I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Oh I assumed that getting me pregnant wasn’t a part of the plan,” she snapped back.

It was a struggle not to answer in kind. “I was referring to the plan itself. You were never supposed to know about any of it. I swear.” He stopped to frown heavily, the words difficult to say. “You and me, the way that things were between us, that shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t ever the plan for it to happen. I’m glad it happened though. The you and I part at least.”

Her gaze was steady, scrutinizing. “I saw the stuff on the wall. You were researching me. Why would you do that if you weren’t planning all this?”

It was a valid question, one that he did not want to answer, but he knew that he would have to explain if he wanted to convince her to let him stick around. With a nervous look at Lola through the glass he began. “The best way out of the prison is through the infirmary window. It’s the weakest link in the security chain. That meant I needed to research as much as I could about the medical staff, you especially. That’s why there was information about you on the wall.”

“For what purpose? Why did you need to know anything about me?” The rest of it was too close to what had happened between them for him to answer. She took his silence for answer enough. “So you were going to seduce me.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Seduce is such a strong word. Flirt with you, maybe.” To his surprise she actually laughed at that, and he couldn’t help joining in. “But I’m serious,” he added once the laughter was done. “I never meant for things to get this far. And I was never going to ask you to help. If everything went according to plan, you never would have known.”

The way she was looking at him was still uneasy, but he thought that maybe she was a little less upset. “Why didn’t you just tell me that you knew?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were pregnant?”

The question hung in the air between them for a long moment. She glanced around the room with a small frown. “Because it would involve having to ask you to choose, the baby or Lincoln. How could I ask you that?”

Her words were unexpected but no less true. No matter how he looked at it, saving his brother always came at the price of the baby. He would be on the run and that wouldn’t be any life for a child. And that was if she would even agree to come with him. That wasn’t a guarantee. So it would have either raise a baby on the run or never even meet his kid at all. “There has to be a way to save him that doesn’t involve breaking him out. Something that I haven’t thought of yet,” he muttered, thinking out loud.

A dark cloud crossed her face. “He wouldn’t want you to throw everything away for him. He’s made that blatantly clear. I mean, he even asked his ex-girlfriend to talk you out of it. If that doesn’t tell you he’s serious what would?”

He looked at her sharply. How did she know that Veronica had talked to him? “Have you been talking to my brother about me?”

“Not by choice.” She looked around herself shiftily. “But you know it is a little difficult not to think about you when I have a piece of you growing inside of me.” She made a vague gesture at her stomach, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ve been thinking about you too. And not just after I found out. I’ve missed you.”

Their eyes met awkwardly. “I’m sorry that didn’t tell you. I didn’t really know what to say or how to say it. There isn’t really a section on telling the estranged father of your unborn child in the pregnancy books. Actually, I haven’t told anyone. You told Veronica?”

He shook his head. “She caught me looking at one of those ‘your baby is this far along’ websites.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I was trying to figure out how far along you were based on the ultrasound picture. Eight weeks?”

Her bemused smile told him he was at least close. “Almost twelve now.” There was an uncertain look on her face for a second. “I’m pretty sure that she’s going to tell your brother.”

He nodded. That sounded about right. Of course Veronica would tell Lincoln. The fact that he had asked her not to wouldn’t matter, there had always been different rules for Veronica and Lincoln. After all, she had helped keep a secret from him for years just because Linc had asked. The thought was still upsetting. If only he had just known what Lincoln was sacrificing for him they never would have ended up here. The sound of Sara’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, with a small shake of the head. “It wasn’t my business.” There was an awkward moment where they just stared at each other. “I should probably get going, but I have an appointment in a couple of days if you want to come. You don’t have to or anything.” She glanced away awkwardly as she stood up.

“No, I’d love to come.”

She nodded again. “I’ll text you the details then.”

He watched her walk out of the office, not really sure how he felt about their conversation. Everything seemed better but it was hard to have faith that she might forgive him. Why would she? He had used her, though mostly unintentionally, and had managed to get her pregnant in the process. It all seemed a recipe for disaster. And with Veronica telling Lincoln… The thought was too much for him to think about. The next visit with his brother was bound to be unbearable.

 

Lincoln shifted in his seat as Veronica was led into the room. “Hey,” he said with a small smile. When she had told him over the phone she was coming to see him it had been a pleasant surprise. He really hadn’t expected to see her again. “How did things go with Michael?”

She looked up at him unsure for a moment. “Things were weird actually,” she said with a frown.

The look on her face worried him in a new way. What could be worse than what his brother had been up to for the last few months? “But he’s going to abandon the plan though?” It was the only thing that really mattered.

She looked uncomfortable. Even though they were alone and unrecorded she still lowered her voice. “He is no longer actively planning to break you out.”

“That’s good,” Lincoln said. “Whatever you said to him must have worked so thank you.” The look she shot him made him uneasy. “What’s wrong?”

There was a deep silence in the room while he tried to read the expression on her face. Something was going on behind her eyes that she didn’t want to say. Even after all these years apart he still knew her well enough to know when something was wrong. “I didn’t convince your brother of anything. He had already made up his mind when I got there. Well, I guess made up is the wrong way to put it. He still wants very much to save you, but he’s turning his attention more toward legal means. Which is good.”

“But hopeless.”

His words clearly hurt her, the look on her face making him regret them. “Maybe not hopeless. I showed the case to these guys at project justice, and they think that there is some hope that we could at least get you a new trial.” She looked awkward again. “I mean, it wouldn’t get you out of here immediately, but it would at least give you a stay of execution.”

The realization that instead of simply convincing his brother to drop it that she had joined into the scheme itself irked him. Did none of them pay attention to him? But he couldn’t think about that now. There was still something that she wasn’t saying. As much as he hoped that looking into his case was the worst that she had to say, he feared that it wasn’t the case. “We’ll come back to you and my brother ignoring my wishes later,” he began to say.

Veronica shot him a pointed glare. “You said to stop him from doing something stupid. Trying to find legal means to overturn your case is not stupid. It’s what you should have been doing this whole time. I spoke to your old lawyer. Did you know that he let some of your appeals expire?”

He frowned at that. “I don’t see why that matters. I was convicted, and nothing anyone can do is going to chance that.”

“So you just gave up?” She scoffed when he glared at her. “No wonder Michael is so desperate to help you since you seem incapable of helping yourself. I looked at the evidence they had against you, and it is ridiculous that you got convicted in the first place. Why wouldn’t you fight it?”

“I told you, I’m not interested in more futile efforts. It will just cause problems for everyone and hurt more in the end.” Why couldn’t they all just understand that? There was no use having faith in a system that had already proved flawed. All he cared about was that his son and brother were safe and okay, and it seemed that something was wrong with one of them. “What I want to know about is Michael. You say that you didn’t need to convince him to change his mind about breaking me out. Why? What’s going on with him?”

There was no mistaking the way she shifted in her seat. Whatever it was that his brother was up to now she didn’t want to say. “Something just came up that divided his focus, a reason that made him question his methods.” She shot him a calculating look as she paused. “I guess he’s been sleeping with the prison doctor. Seemed surprised that you hadn’t told me. I was as well. Or her for that matter. I mean, I got the impression that there was something she wasn’t saying about her part in all of this, but I never expected that.” She paused again to give him a chance to answer, but when he didn’t say anything she went on. “I’m guessing that she thought that coming to see me was a good way of washing her hands of the whole affair. She could tell herself she had done everything that she could to keep Michael from saving you and be done with it.” She sighed loudly, an ugly look on her face. “It’s just unbelievable.”

Lincoln wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was she upset with the doc for some reason? “Look, I know that it’s probably hard to look past her part in all this, but it’s complicated. She came to see you because I asked. It’s not like she has been plotting all along to kill me; she’s just doing her job.”

Veronica scoffed. “Was sleeping with your brother part of her job too? And what about getting pregnant? That a part of her job?”

He opened his mouth to respond when the last bit of what Veronica had said hit him. A sudden memory of the doc getting sick the day before popped into his head, followed by all her odd questions about Michael and his father. And she had rushed out suddenly, something he had said sparking a concern in her eyes that he hadn’t understood at the time. “That explains the puking,” he said without thinking.

“That’s what you have to say?” she asked incredulously. “You know, she hasn’t even told him. He found out by accident, because I guess she gets to decide that he never gets to have a relationship with his own kid.”

Her words made him frown. “I doubt it’s that simple. Things are really complicated between them. He basically lied to her for months. Think about that. If you were sleeping with someone and found out that they were secretly planning to do something illegal that kind of involved you, wouldn’t you be pissed?” He paused for a moment and thought over his next words. “I think she might be in love with him or something. I mean, she didn’t turn him in when she found out. If the DOC ever found out that she knew about a potential escape and said nothing she would lose her job at the very least. Why would she risk that unless there was some reason?”

Veronica only looked somewhat placated. “Still, she’s working to help them kill you. How does she do that and have a baby with Michael?”

Lincoln shrugged. “Maybe that is why she hasn’t told him yet.”

She shook her head but let the matter lie. “I will keep you apprised as to your case.”

“You do realize that you aren’t actually my lawyer.”

She ignored him as she gathered her things. “I will let you know when I know something. It was good seeing you.”

“You too,” he muttered as she walked over to the door and knocked sharply. As she left him alone, he found that he had a lot to think about. The doc was pregnant? It all seemed so unbelievable.

***

Sara shifted uncomfortably on the stool as she tried to make sense of some of her notes from the day before. There wasn’t much to work with between her getting sick and rushing out of the cell. With a sigh she merely turned to a fresh page and prepared to begin. She would worry herself with the few bits she had scribbled down later. For now she was determined to focus on Lincoln. It hadn’t been fair of her to run off to handle her personal business when she was meant to be treating a patient, and she planned to be professional this time around. With a small smile she looked up at Lincoln. “Again, I am so sorry that we had to cut our meeting so short the last time.” She shot him another smile. “I’m feeling a lot better today, so I’ll try not to puke again.”

She had meant it to be a joke, but he didn’t appear to find it funny. The expression on his face was unreadable as he stared back at her while she shifted uncomfortably again. “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better,” he finally said. The odd look remained in his eyes as he spoke. Something about it made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t have time to respond before he was talking again. “I was worried when you rushed out of here yesterday. Usually I have to say something unsettling to make you run off like that, but the only thing we had been talking about was Michael. Since things are over between you two, I assumed whatever it was that upset you must be serious.”

The way the words fell from his lips seemed off to her somehow, like there was something beneath them that he was working very hard not to say. Sara watched him for a moment as she tried to piece together what he might really be saying. Maybe it was just simple concern for her health that guided his speech. It had been months now that they had been doing this, and in that time they had come to know each other fairly well. Their inevitable parting in a couple of weeks hung heavy in the room all of a sudden. Maybe that was it. In the time that she had known him she had come to see that he was a man who was concerned for and about the people around him. He was the kind of person who worried about those that he cared about. Maybe he didn’t express it well, but that was likely caused by years of emotional neglect at the hands of a mother that clearly preferred his brother and a father that had never really been around at all. Lincoln Burrows was a man that had been forced into adulthood at eleven years old, but he had never seen the little brother he had to take care of or the son he’d had too young as a burden. Instead his only thoughts were about their ongoing wellbeing. Now he was probably just concerned about her in the same way as he was about them. “I appreciate the concern,” she said genuinely, “but I promise that I am fine.”

The look he gave her was shrewd, but he made no further comment about her mysterious illness from the day before. Hopefully he thought it was merely food poisoning or something similar. Instead of pestering her further he turned his thoughts toward the last questions she had been asking before she bolted. “You were wondering about Michael’s father yesterday.”

The memory was a little vague even though it was so recent. There had been so many things swirling in her mind that the specific questions she had been asking seemed almost surreal. But the line of questioning did ring true. “Was I?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

“I wasn’t sure where you were going with it. Why would Michael’s father matter to me?”

The question seemed innocent enough, but there was something unsettling about the way he stared at her without blinking. She was struck suddenly that this was a test. He was gauging the way she responded to his inquiries in much the same way that she frequently did to him. She chose her words carefully, knowing that he would wring them for all their value as they fell from her lips. “I told you, it was more a question about your mother than Michael’s father.” The answer was not entirely a lie but not the truth either.

“Like if she could lie about that what else was she lying about?”

The question was like a lifeline and she clung to it. “I suppose. You know that I have always put more stock in your relationship with your mother than you have.” He gave her a small nod, but the hard stare remained. “Of course,” she added, trying to put him at ease, “if my questions made you uncomfortable, we can talking about that.”

His eyes narrowed momentarily, “So we’re actually going to talk about the fact that you’re pregnant with my brother’s child then?”

The question stunned her into silence. All she could do was sit there and stare as the words hit her in waves. At first it seemed impossible that he could have even said those words at all. How would he have even come to know she was pregnant? And then she remembered the reason why she had begun with all her questions the day before. Veronica, who was coming to see him, had told Lincoln that there was something going on with Michael, something that was taking precedence over his quest to break his brother out. The guards had mentioned that a pretty young lawyer had come to see Lincoln that very morning. What they had spoken of was protected under attorney client privilege, but they must have talked about this, about her and Michael. Of course he would want to know, would ask her about it. But she was at a loss for what she was supposed to say, so she merely sat there and stared back at him, her mind at a loss for what she was supposed to say to that. And all the while he was watching her. That strange look never left his eyes as they sat there, neither one sure where the conversation was supposed to go. She wanted more than anything to deny everything, but she knew that wasn’t possible. Instead she said, “I’m assuming that Veronica told you.” The blank stare she got back was answer enough to the question. “Then there is no point in denying it then.”

“Michael knows too,” he said simply.

The statement seemed strange. She and Michael had talked about it once she’d run out of the cell the day before, but yet Lincoln was telling her that his brother knew like it would be news to her. It took a long moment before things clicked into place. Michael must not have talked to Veronica after she left. “I went to talk to him yesterday,” she said.

Lincoln nodded and looked away for the first time since she had come into the cell and sat down. It was impossible to know what he was thinking, the look on his face blank for the time being. “Are you back together?”

That question was even more shocking than the last. What were her and Michael doing exactly? She had told him he could come to her next appointment, but other than that she hadn’t let herself think too much about the implications of what was going on. “It’s complicated,” she said. “Just because we’re having a baby together doesn’t mean that we have to run off and get married.” And it didn’t mean that she could just forgive him no matter how much she wanted to.

“But you are keeping the baby?” He glanced over at her as he asked. There was a short pause before he decided that he didn’t need an answer to the question after all. “I’m assuming that he hasn’t told you that he’s still trying to get me out.”

She frowned heavily at his words. It hurt to hear that was the case though it wasn’t overly surprising. She couldn’t really expect that he would abandon his brother just because she happened to get pregnant. He would want to have them both, of course he would. The fact that he hadn’t told her was worrisome, something that didn’t sit right. “We didn’t talk much the last time I saw him.” She left it at that. Let him puzzle out whether or not she was upset by receiving this knowledge for himself.

“It’s my own fault,” Lincoln went on, “I thought that Veronica would talk some sense into him, but instead she filled his head with all these ideas that they can get me a new trial.” The set of his jaw told her exactly what he thought about their schemes.

The cell was silent as she tried to find the words to respond. “It could be worse,” she finally said. “At least this is legal. He’s not going to get himself into trouble trying to help get you out this way.”

He rolled his eyes. “But it’s hopeless. If there had been a way my lawyer would have found it. And when this fails he’ll be devastated.”

“Michael will or you will?”

The look that he gave her was hard. “Why would I get upset over something that I already know?” He paused for a long time, frowning to himself. “I just wish he would stop trying to give me hope. That’s the last thing a guy in my position needs. I wish my brother could see that.”

Sara let those words sink in. Of course he would be concerned about putting too much faith in these miracle cures that his brother and ex-girlfriend were prescribing. If he let himself believe that some good would come of their attempts to free him, it would only hurt all the worse if and when it all come crashing down around him. “I would ask if you had talked to him about this, but I’m guessing that Michael wouldn’t listen even if you did.”

He laughed humorlessly. “So you know my brother then,” he said.

Once they had completed the meeting and she was far away from the cell, those words would echo through her mind. Did she really know Michael? Or was the picture in her head just the man she had thought she was falling in love with before it all came crashing down?

***

The room was quiet as they waited for the doctor. Michael glanced over at Sara again, not really sure what he was supposed to say. It had been a few days since they had come to some sort of agreement, but it was still difficult to know how he was supposed to proceed. What did you say to the woman who was angry at you that you had also accidently gotten pregnant? She appeared to be less upset with him today at least. That thought didn’t do much to ease the tension he felt standing in a doctor’s office with her. “Do you have a lot of these?” he asked just to break the silence.

The question appeared to startle her. There was a long moment where she looked at him somewhat confused. Eventually his question seemed to make sense to her. “Not really. Just one a month for the time being. It’ll be more often at the end though.” The words made her frown deeply.

Was that because she thought he was complaining? The thought hit him hard. Of course he wanted to be here. There wasn’t anywhere else that he would rather be. This was all completely new to him, and he had no clue what was supposed to happen. She had invited him to come with her, but for what? His eyes flicked to the machine next to the bed, pretty sure that he knew what it was for. “I don’t know anything about all this,” he admitted with a sideways glance at where she was sitting.

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the arrival of the doctor. The woman looked pleasant enough as she opened the door. “How are you doing today Sara?” she asked upon entering the room.

“I’m doing okay,” Sara replied, her back suddenly rigid. Michael wasn’t sure how he was supposed to read that. Was she dreading whatever was about to happen? Was she concerned about something? Was she regretting he was here?

The doctor smiled broadly, her eyes sweeping over toward him. “And you must be Dad. I’m Dr. Campbell.” She held out her hand to him as both Michael and Sara supplied his name at the same time. “Well it is good that you could join us Michael. I bet you’re excited.” She smiled broadly and looked down at the chart in her hands for a moment. “It looks like your vitals are all good, nothing to concern ourselves with. Anything out of the ordinary going on?”

“A little morning sickness, but nothing too bad,” Sara responded, the tension in her body spreading to her voice. “Oh and some heartburn.”

The doctor nodded. “That’s perfectly normal at this stage. It’s perfectly safe to use antacids if needed, just make sure that you follow the instructions on the label. But unless you have any more questions, why don’t you jump up on the table so we can take a look?”

Sara sat there for a second, just long enough that Michael noticed her reluctance, and then she rose and climbed onto the table, beginning to pull her shirt up enough to show her slightly rounded belly. “Uh…” he began, “do you need me to wait outside?” The sight of her bare stomach was a little surprising, something he hadn’t considered on the car ride over. Was he supposed to be here for this part? It seemed so intimate with everything so up in the air between them.

She looked over at him and to his surprise chuckled. “I think it’s safe to assume that the doctor knows you’ve seen me naked at this point.”

The comment made him chuckle a little but didn’t help him relax any. Suddenly he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to put his eyes. Was it okay to look at her? He kept his position by the door just in case while the doctor began pouring some kind of gel onto the bit of Sara’s exposed skin. “You don’t have to stay all the way over there,” the doctor said over her shoulder. “It’ll be hard to see.”

Reluctantly he moved a little closer, stopping at the end of the bed as the doctor began running the wand over Sara’s stomach. The picture on the screen was hard to make out as she moved the device around. “Here we go. The little guy was hiding.”

Michael tried to focus on the screen, but what he saw there was unfathomable. How was that possible? He had spent hours looking at the first ultrasound picture, but that was a completely different experience. The figure on the screen was moving and there was an odd noise he couldn’t place. “What’s that sound?” he asked.

“That’s the heartbeat,” Sara said, an odd look on her face he hadn’t seen there before. She stared at him for a moment like she was trying to read his mind then turned to the doctor. “Does everything look alright?”

“Everything looks like it should,” the doctor replied. “The little guy seems to be growing away in there just as expected. You see the fingers?” She pointed toward the screen. “The baby is learning how to use them, testing out the muscles to make sure they work.”

Sure enough the hand on the screen was opening and closing repeatedly. “Do they move a lot then?” he asked, watching the movement intently.

The doctor turned from the screen to look at him. “They move almost constantly. It’s too soon to feel anything just yet, but a big part of development is a quality control test. Got to know it all works before birth. The little guy should be learning to curl his toes as well.”

He nodded as she turned back to the monitor to review the footage more. It was surreal. He had kind of assumed that the baby was just sleeping in there the whole time while everything was coming together. As he watched the wand slid over some to show the baby’s face. There was little mistaking that that was a little person in there. The image stuck in his mind. They were actually having a baby. It was almost impossible to fathom. As he watched the doctor took the device off Sara’s stomach. “You can sit up now if you would like,” she said as she wiped the gel off as well.

Sara pulled her shirt down and sat up without a word. She seemed to be less uncomfortable now, but he still had trouble gauging what she was thinking. The doctor smiled pleasantly. “Well, everything appears to be right on schedule,” she said. “Your blood pressure is well within range, and the baby’s heartbeat sounded good. So there isn’t any reason to worry at this time. Do you have any questions?”

Michael wasn’t sure what there was to ask. There were probably a thousand things that he would think of the second they walked out of the room, but right now he was drawing a complete blank. Sara also looked lost for something to ask. “I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright,” she finally muttered. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to ask.”

“And that is perfectly understandable,” the doctor said with a smile. “Every first time mother finds it a little overwhelming. Nothing wrong with feeling a little over your head. You can always call in with any questions that you have later on, or write them down when they occur to you and ask next time.”

“And when is that?” Michael found himself asking.

“Sometime next month. We should be able to find out the sex of the baby the next time if you want to know.” Right. Next month. Would Lincoln still be around next month for Michael to tell him what they were having? Would Veronica’s plan work? Michael tried to push the thought from his mind as the doctor looked between them. “Of course you guys don’t have to decide now. There are at least four more weeks before you have to come in.”

The tension in the room was noticeable. Michael couldn’t help but wonder if the questions plaguing him were the same as the ones bothering her. He glanced over at her, but her face was unreadable. The doctor cleared her throat. “Well, if there isn’t anything that either of you need to ask, I will see you next time. Just make your appointment at the front desk on the way out. In the meantime, it should be perfectly safe for the two of you to keep having sex.”

Both of them turned to look at her awkwardly. She was smiling at them like she couldn’t read the room at all. “Good to know,” Sara replied, her eyes cutting over to him almost involuntarily.

The doctor chuckled a little. “No need to be embarrassed. It’s normal for couples to keep at for a while. You’re pregnant, not dead.” She looked between them again. “Well, I will let you get going. I will see you in a month.”

Michael watched her leave the room, a part of him wishing she would stay. Being alone with Sara suddenly made him so uneasy. The fact that the doctor had brought up the two of them having sex only made things worse. As much as he knew it was wrong, he had missed her, missed the sounds he used to be able to pull out of her. “Do you want to go get dinner or something?” she asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I need to swing by and grab something from the office first but sure.” He watched her jump off the table and followed her out the door, working hard to keep his eyes straight ahead of him. Things seemed to be going well, and he didn’t want to risk doing something stupid to mess it up. He just needed to remind himself of what was at stake here. They were having a baby together. That was the only reason she was putting up with him, and he needed to be sure to keep his thoughts to himself.

***

Lincoln knocked the handcuffs against the table as he waited. The soft click of the metal was a nice distraction from his thoughts. Veronica was coming to see him with some information about the case. Surely it wasn’t necessary to come all the way here just to tell him that there was nothing that they could do. He knew that already. She was the one who had gotten her hopes up, not him. The door opened behind him as he sighed. “Hello Lincoln,” Veronica said as she walked around the table toward him.

He looked up at her to find that she was not alone. A man he had never seen before was standing beside her. Lincoln shot her a questioning look. “This is Nick Savrin,” she said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Nick, this is Lincoln.” Both men nodded at each other by way of greeting. “Nick works at Project Justice. He’s the one that has been going over your case with me.”

“Which I asked you not to do,” Lincoln reminded her.

Veronica shot Nick a bemused look. “Just ignore him when he says things like that,” she told him as she took a seat at the table.

The newcomer sat down next to her without a word. Lincoln wanted to punch him though he wasn’t sure why. This man was not supposed to be here. It made no sense that she would have drug this guy all the way to the prison just so he could tell Lincoln that there was nothing they could do. He sighed loudly. “Look, I’m sorry that her and my brother have wasted your time with this. My real lawyer has already reviewed everything and determined that there is nothing that can be done." He shot Veronica a pointed look as he spoke.

The new lawyer glanced between them. “Your lawyer is what we wanted to speak to you about.” That got Lincoln’s attention, but he worked hard not to show it. What would his lawyer have to do with anything? Nick cleared his throat and went on. “We think that there is a good chance to get you a new trial based on ineffective representation. Whether that gets you a new trial or not is debatable, but it will at least get your case in front of a judge and delay the execution.”

“Delay?” Lincoln asked sharply. “Why would I want to delay my execution? So I can spend a few more months waiting anxiously for them to kill me?” He sighed heavily and knocked the handcuffs against the table again. If the doc was here she would tell him to use his words. He should be honest, tell them what he was thinking. “I don’t really think you understand what it’s like to just sit there and wait to die, but I’ve been doing it for three years now. I only have one more week, and all of this is going to be over. So, whatever schemes you’re playing at, I would rather you just drop it.”

Nick glanced over at Veronica. She shifted uncomfortably and looked at Lincoln. “We are fairly certain that we have something, surveillance footage that would clear you, but we need time to sort out the details. A temporary stay would help give us time to check it out.”

“And when this doesn’t work out?” he asked pointedly.

Veronica sighed and leaned across the table toward him. “I just need you to have a little faith.” The words hit him hard. He’d been saying that to Michael since they were kids. Just have a little faith. It was unfair of her to use those words on him now; she knew what they meant. “I promise, no wild goose chases. This is real.”

“We have no idea why your lawyer didn’t consider this actually,” Nick added. “That was where I got the idea to claim inadequate defense. There are a lot of things that he never did that he should have at least tried. Not to mention that he let several of your appeals lapse without even filing them. It was almost like he made no effort at all to mount a defense.”

“He filed the last appeal,” Lincoln muttered.

“Because he had to,” Veronica said. “And even then he only tried to get your sentence commuted instead of asking for a retrial.”

“And there is potential evidence that you may be innocent. The case against you was shaky enough before. If we can get our hands on the tape and prove that you weren’t there, we can at least get you a new trial.” Nick looked at him seriously as he finished speaking.

Lincoln frowned heavily. He didn’t want to be sitting here listening to all this. How could Veronica and Michael have done something like this without consulting him? “I’m assuming that the only reason you’re here is because you need my permission to do this,” he said blandly. Veronica’s silence was telling. “Okay. You can do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel better, but I don’t want to know about it. And I don’t want LJ to know about it either. This isn’t going to work, and the sooner you and Mike accept that the better it will be for everyone involved.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Because I’m likely to go over to Lisa’s house after this.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “That one might apply more to Michael, admittedly. I just don’t want to get his hopes up. Either of them.”

She nodded at that. “I can respect that, but you need to trust me on this. We are going to figure this out.”

He nodded but didn’t believe her. There was nothing that could be done. The sooner she realized that the better.

***

Sara followed him down the hall to his office. The place was deserted, everyone else having cleared out for the night. The silence was eerie. “I’m surprised there isn’t anyone here,” she said.

Michael turned to look at her curiously. “Yeah, people tend to head out early on Fridays.”

“That must be nice,” she replied nervously. There wasn’t anything else that she could think to say. Suddenly asking him to dinner seemed like a mistake. Why was she volunteering to spend extra time with him? The doctor’s office had been awkward enough, and now they were going to try and have a whole meal together. What was she thinking? Yet she continued to follow him.

Michael turned the corner that led to his office, and her footsteps echoed behind him. This was certainly going to be interesting. “Where were you wanting to go?” he asked over his shoulder.

The question took a long time to make sense to her. She had given little to no thought about the location of this forthcoming disaster. Now would be a good time for those pregnancy cravings to kick in, but the baby seemed uncooperative. “It doesn’t really matter to me where we go,” she finally said.

He gave her a small nod as he began rummaging around in his desk. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I thought that it was right here.”

“What are you looking for?”

The question obviously made him uncomfortable by the way he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “It’s just something for the lawyers. I need to take it to Veronica.” He definitely wasn’t meeting her eyes after he said that.

She wondered about all the awkwardness on the subject. They should be able to talk about Lincoln, and yet every time he came up there was almost this hush that fell over any room they were in. Were they ever going to be able to get passed that? They were going to have to if they were going to have a baby together. She watched him dig around in his desk for a moment more before she tried to break the silence. “He mentioned that you had started talking to some lawyers about reviewing his case.”

Her words made him freeze for a second, his hand suspended over the open desk drawer. “Veronica’s idea. I probably should have told you…” The thought trailed off into silence.

She nodded though he wasn’t looking at her. Finding out that he hadn’t completely abandoned his quest had been shocking, but she really shouldn’t have assumed that he had. Of course he wouldn’t just forget about his brother with everything else going on. “We haven’t really been talking much lately,” she said as she sunk into a chair across from his desk. “When would you have told me?” That seemed like a good enough out. She wanted to start anew with him, have a brand new start.

He looked up at her, relief etched on his face. “Look,” he began, “I know that this is hard for you. I’m truly sorry for that. I should have thought about how you’d feel when you found out about what I was up to.” There was a troubled look on his face as he paused. “It’s hard for me to think clearly around you.”

She could understand the feeling. How many times had she sworn to herself that she wasn’t going to call him or see him again? She had lost count somewhere in all the weeks that she was waffling. The idea of never seeing him again always broke her resolve. “It might be fair to say that that is true of both of us,” she conceded. After a short moment of silence she couldn’t help but go on. “What exactly was your plan? I mean, after I found out things had to change, right?”

To her surprise he chuckled. “I was still working on that actually. Us knowing each other did make things a little difficult.”

“Is that what we were doing, knowing each other?”

They both laughed at that, and Sara was left to wonder if maybe dinner wouldn’t be so awkward after all. Maybe they would be able to do this after all. But even as the thought occurred to her she was concerned. There was less than a week before the execution, and she had no clue how they were supposed to survive it.

***

Lincoln listened to the ringing on the other end of the line, desperate for Veronica to answer the phone. He had thought about this for a long time. It was time to come clean, to finally tell her the truth. She was spending all her time trying to help him, but he knew that it would come to nothing. If he had just come clean in the beginning things would be so much different now. But maybe it wasn’t too late. The machine beeped on the other end of the line. “It’s Lincoln,” he said fast before he was cut off, “I need to see you.” He replaced the phone on the hook and allowed himself to be taken back to his cell. All he could do was hope that she would come in time. There were only a few days left before all of this would be over.

***

Veronica was sitting at her desk when Michael walked in. “You’re here late,” he teased. Not that he had much right to goad someone with the hours he was known to keep. It was nice to defuse the tension that had settled in his bones when she had called him and asked him to come by her office.

She looked up from whatever document she was perusing to glare at him. “Things are more difficult than I expected.” There was a guilty look on her face as she watched him standing in her office doorway. “Nick took the tape to a judge, but we won’t know until tomorrow.”

Her words were like a punch to the gut. But tomorrow was… He couldn’t finish the thought, even in his mind. With a sigh he walked into the office and collapsed into the one chair that wasn’t piled high with files. The clutter bothered him. How did she manage to work like this? He asked himself that question every time he came to visit her without an answer. But the mess wasn’t what he was supposed to be focusing on. He had come here to find out what was going on with Lincoln’s case, hopeful that it would be good news, but apparently that was just wishful thinking. Why had he let her convince him to do this? “I thought that you said this would work,” he finally said with a sigh.

She looked at him wearily, “I never said that it would work beyond a doubt; I said that there was a good chance that it might work. You wanted to save Lincoln, not that I blame you. I want to save him too. But the way that you were going about it was madness. If you’d gotten caught you would have ended up in prison for years. You’d have thrown your whole life away, and in all likelihood your brother still would have died. This is at least a chance.”

He couldn’t help but scoff at that. “A new trial isn’t going to get him out,” he reminded her.

“But it will keep him from being executed.” She sighed and shook her head. “We have to fight one battle at a time Michael. Right now this is the battle that matters.”

Michael hated to admit that she was right. It was difficult to just sit around and wait for something to happen. He had spent the last three years actively trying to save his brother, and now she just expected him to sit around and do nothing while she did all the work. If he hadn’t messed everything up he could have saved Lincoln by now. Instead they had a day and she was sitting there saying they still hadn’t achieved their goal. “And if this doesn’t work? It will be too late to do anything else.” He knew that his voice was desperate as he glared at her across the table. “I don’t know why I let you convince me to do this. This has been a complete waste of what little time we had left.”

She sighed heavily and glared back at him. “Because you knew what the cost would be if you didn’t let me help.” She sounded annoyed with him, not that he could blame her. “You know that I want to save Linc just as much as you do, so you’ll just have to trust me that I am doing everything that I can to help.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that he was only taking his frustrations out on her. She had been trying, working on the case every time she had the chance. It wasn’t fair to blame her for something beyond her control. “And if the judge refuses to review the evidence?”

“He has to at least hear the case since it is an emergency situation. I know that it is hard to wait, but that is all we can do now.”

He nodded and let out a long sigh. Waiting was the last thing he wanted to do. All that time he had spent working on the plan, and now all he could do was wait. “There is something,” she said suddenly, “A message your brother wanted me to give you.” She shot him an uncertain look before she picked up the file she had been examining and handed it over. “You should read this,” she said, that same worried look on her face as she always wore when Lincoln was up to something.

He reached out and took the file from her, unsure what the contents could do to save his brother, but at least it was something to do other than just waiting for him to die.

***

Sara stared at the paperwork in front of her intently. It was just another form that she needed to sign. She told herself that over and over, but it wasn’t helping her to put her pen against the page and sign her name. She had known that this was coming for months now. So why was it so difficult now? The warden’s secretary was watching her severely. “Dr. Tancredi?” Becky said kindly. “We need you to sign just there.” The secretary pointed to the line on the form helpfully.

Sara looked at her completely nonplussed. “I’m going to need a minute,” she replied, looking back down at the form.

“What’s the problem?” Becky asked. “It’s just a piece of paper.”

Sara looked at her, disbelief etched into every inch of her face. “This piece of paper ends a man’s life. You realize that right? I sign this, and they kill him. That’s the problem.”

Becky’s kind smile soured suddenly. “You’re looking for an issue where one doesn’t exist. Sign it and be done so we can all go on with our lives.”

She couldn’t believe that the woman was being so callous about the situation. “Except for Lincoln Burrows,” Sara pointed out.

That comment was met with an annoyed silence. She didn’t want to have to do this, but deep down she knew that she didn’t have much of a choice. Against everything she believed Sara picked up the pen and signed her name at the bottom of the document. The scratching of the pen against the page sounded awful in the silence of the office. Once she was done, she rose from the desk without a word and left the office as quickly as possible.

There was a hollowness in her chest as her feet carried her out of the prison and to her car. She wanted to get as far away as possible, but the sound of the protesters out front stopped her in her tracks. The words echoed in the still morning air. A reporter was talking amongst the chanting. Sara only caught a few words of his report. “Word has it that this morning the prison doctor is to sign off on the Burrows execution.” His next words were drowned out by the protesters for a moment then his voice carried back to where Sara stood frozen. “Of course there is no question that Dr. Tancredi will sign as her father is the governor. Especially since Frank Tancredi is currently in a neck and neck race for the governorship, it is safe to assume that neither Tancredi will be of any aid to convicted murder Lincoln Burrows.”

The words ignited an anger in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It filled the hole in her chest that she had been carrying around with her for the past week. Her feet were carrying her toward the sound of the voices before she could consider what she was doing. “Hey,” she yelled at the reporter as she sped through the gate, the guard at the checkpoint looking at her surprised. She could hear him behind her trying to get her attention but kept her focus on her target. “Was there something that you wished to say to me?” she asked the reporter.

“Sorry?” he asked, looking between her and his cameraman.

Her anger propelled her on. “I heard you talking about me, implying things that you couldn’t possibly understand. I thought maybe you might like to say those things to my face.”

The reporter seemed to be a little slow on the uptake but finally managed to process the information she had given him. “You’re Sara Tancredi?” he asked stupidly.

“In the flesh.”

There was a shocked silence while he grasped for a way to use this opportunity to his advantage. Finally everything seemed to snap into place for him. “Then hopefully you can tell us whether or not you signed the order of execution this morning as has been rumored.

He brandished the microphone at her like it was a weapon. Sara looked at it for a second, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. But it was too late to back out now. What the hell had she been thinking? She took a deep breath and answered. “Doctors no longer sign orders of execution, nor do we take an active role in the execution process as it is against our oath to first do no harm.” Her eyes cut uncertainly to the protestors for a second. “What I signed this morning was a statement saying that in my professional opinion Lincoln Burrows is healthy and mentally competent.”

“Isn’t that basically the same thing?” the reporter asked.

She couldn’t help but look at the camera. Would Michael see this? Was he watching the news? She hoped not. “I suppose you’re right. But contrary to what you implied a moment ago, I did not sign because of my father. I signed it because I had no choice. In the event that a doctor finds a death row inmate unfit, another doctor is brought in to do a second evaluation. And given the nature of this case, it is likely that they would have chosen to do that today so as not to delay the execution. That would have only hurt Lincoln further. Therefore, I chose to be honest and signed, so that he would have the last twelve hours of his life to spend with his family instead of some doctor he didn’t know.”

“So you support the decision of the state of Illinois to end Lincoln Burrows’ life at one minute after midnight, just over fourteen hours from now?”

That was a very loaded question. There was a very clear rule about which of her views she was allowed to share in public, and that particular opinion was nowhere near the list. Her eyes casts to the protestors again. Under different circumstances she would have been out here with them. Things would have been so much easier if she could have just been with them instead of standing in front of a reporter with a microphone in her face. She vividly remembered her reaction when she heard that she would be required to do the psych eval on Lincoln in the first place. Things had been so much simpler then. She hadn’t expected any of the things that had taken place over the last six months. Now she found herself standing in front of the prison on the verge of possibly saying something that would get her in trouble. “No,” she said after a moment of thought.

“No?”

She glanced at the protesters again. “No. I do not support the decision to execute Lincoln Burrows. In fact, I do not believe in the death penalty at all. What kind of society uses murder as an actual punishment dished out against their citizens? I’m sure we could stand right here and name several, but the company we keep in that regard is nothing to brag about. Our reliance upon it is not only wrong, it is borderline barbaric. And insanely expensive. Just to execute him tonight is going to cost the state of Illinois more money than if they had kept Lincoln alive for life.”

“But what would you say to those that point out that he is a convicted murderer?” The reporter shoved the microphone back toward her.

“Right now there is a man sitting in that building behind me that kidnaped, raped, and murdered a bunch of teenagers. Not only is he not on death row, he will eventually be eligible for parole. Where is the indignation about that?” She paused for a moment then thought what the hell. Looking directly into the camera she added, “I think we all know why Lincoln Burrows is going to be executed tonight. It isn’t that he’s a murderer; it’s that he killed someone with rich and powerful friends. That’s also why it has taken less than half the time for him to exhaust all of his appeals.”

“Are you saying you have no sympathy for the family of Terrance Steadman?”

She had to fight the urge not to roll her eyes. “Of course I have sympathy for them, but I also have sympathy for the family of Lincoln Burrows. Because they are the ones who will actually suffer for Steadman’s death, his brother and fifteen year old son. That is the reality of capital punishment that we don’t speak about. When you kill a man you not only end his life, you also end his suffering. Tonight when they execute him that will not be the culmination of Lincoln’s punishment but the end. If you truly believe that he deserves to pay for the murder of Terence Steadman, then we shouldn’t be executing him.”

“Many would argue that he will receive his punishment in the afterlife,” the reporter pointed out.

Sara formed the words in her mind carefully before she replied. “Those same people argue that God absolves all sin. By that token if he has repented and accepted Jesus into his heart, as they claim is all that is required, fiery damnation isn’t waiting for him on the other side.” She took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to impugn anyone’s religious beliefs, but I personally do not see capital punishment as justifiable by that very same religion.” She shook her head.

“What then would you say to your father when he goes to decide whether or not to grant clemency?”

She scoffed at that. “If he were a different man I would say try to remain unbiased, but we both know that he was never going to grant clemency. He’s too afraid that it might lose the election to actually impart justice.”

The reporter opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of one of the guards. Sara turned to look at Mack, scowling around at all the people gathered in front of the prison. “Burrows is requesting to see you,” he said with a glance at Sara.

“I guess that concludes our little chat then,” she said over her shoulder as she walked back into the prison.

The reporter yelled at her as she walked away, but she paid him no mind. “You know I thought Murphy was joking when he told me where you were,” Mack said once they were out of earshot.

“I may have lost my temper a little bit. It’s been a stressful day.” She glanced over at him. “Lincoln say what he wanted?”

Mack shrugged. “Just that he wanted to talk to you before his brother gets here.” She sighed deeply as they made their way back to where Lincoln was being held. This was a meeting she had been dreading all morning.

***

Lincoln ran his hand over his head again. It felt strange to not have any hair to run his palm against, even if there had only been stubble there before. His eyes darted around the room again. Not what he would have imagined the final visitation room would have looked like. He hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it, but if he had, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be spending the last hours in a room like this. The door creaked as it opened, and he turned to look at the newcomers. He was glad that the doc had agreed to come see him. There was always that fear that she wouldn’t come now that her part in this was done. “You want me to cuff him?” Mack asked, looking between Lincoln and the doc.

There was a moment’s pause before Sara answered. “No. I’m sure that it’s fine.”

With a nod the guard was gone, and they were standing awkwardly on opposite sides of the room staring at each other. “You asked to see me?” There was some disbelief in her tone.

“I did,” Lincoln replied. He frowned for a moment. “I wanted to say goodbye to you. I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you before, and I don’t think I’ll do much seeing after.” There was a heavy pause after that. “Sorry, gallows humor.”

She still looked uncomfortable but smiled sadly at the poor joke. “I suppose that you’re allowed.”

He shifted uncomfortably. There had been this big speech he’s worked out in his head, all these things he wanted to say to her, but now that he was standing there facing her all his words left him. He cleared his throat and tried to collect his thoughts. “I also wanted to let you know that I forgive you. Not that you need my forgiveness, but if there is a part of you that did, you have it. You have made my life a lot better these last few months, and I couldn’t have gotten here without you. That probably doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“I know what you meant.” She looked uncomfortable as she set her bag down on the table and glanced around the room.

He struggled to go on. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I don’t blame you for this, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either. I was already past saving by the time you met me.” He sighed deeply and pulled a folded note out of his pocket. “You told me that I shouldn’t die with regrets. I wrote this a little while ago, some of those things that I needed to say. I was hoping that you could help me with it.”

He held out the letter for her to take. “Who’s it to?”

The words stuck in his throat. “Vice President Reynolds.”

The room was still around them. “I’m sorry, what?”

He had to smile at her confusion. “You told me to make amends. I just need you to deliver it to someone.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment. “Okay. But how am I supposed to get it to her?”

This was the part that made him wary of asking her to help him. What if she said no? “You don’t. Look it’s to her but not actually for her. It’s something that I’ve wanted to say for a long time but couldn’t for reasons expressed in the letter. Things I can’t say until I’m dead. I found someone who will publish it, but they can’t be seen to be associated with me. And I can’t mail it unless I want it read by one of the guards. There’s an address on there for you to drop it off.”

To his surprise she came closer and took the letter from him. She paused for a moment, looking down at the object carefully. “Why wait until you’re dead?”

He gave her a sly smile. “Because revenge is a dish best served cold.” He shrugged at the serious look on her face. “Look, by now it is too late to matter what I have to say. They want me dead, so I am dead. But maybe after I’m gone, my words will mean something. Maybe they will matter for a much more important cause.” He could live with that, being important after the fact. At least someone would know what had happened here.

“And how do you know that I won’t read it?” She watched him closely, the note clutched in her hand like she was afraid to drop it.

“I don’t, but I hope that if you do that you will understand why it has to be this way.” He watched her closely in return. “You’ve never asked me if I was guilty, and I never said, but I am. Not of killing Steadman, but I am guilty of a lot that they never got me for. Maybe all those crimes added up to a life sentence and this is karma making me pay up. But ultimately, I never pulled the trigger. I showed up with a gun and bad intentions, but the man in that car was already dead. I’m not as dumb as people like to believe. I knew exactly what was going on before the cops busted down my door. At first I thought I could fight it, but they threatened my family. This execution doesn’t go down, they will hurt my brother, my son. They might even hurt you if they find out about the baby.” His eyes flicked down to find that she was just beginning to show. Most people wouldn’t have realized unless they knew. He knew and he didn’t want anything to happen to her or the baby. “I’d rather die than let that happen. I used to sit in my cell and think that this was the only way, but all the time that Michael had spent on his plans to break me out and all the things that you have taught me have changed my perspective. They can want me dead all they want, they’ll even get their wish in a few hours, but like hell will I go quietly. That letter will set a chain of events in motion that will end them all.”

“Lincoln, what did you do?” she asked, looking at the letter in her hands like it was likely to explode.

“I gave Michael a different task. I spent so long trying to keep him away from all this, but then I realized that he would never stop. So I had Veronica give him a message from me. One that couldn’t be overheard. All I needed to do was point him in the right direction, because no one digs better than my brother.” He smiled sadly. “Promise me that you’ll take care of him once I’m gone. He might try to push you away, to blame you for your part in this, but you can’t let him. You guys obviously care about each other, and then there is the baby. I think that if you let yourselves that you could be happy together.”

Sara looked up from the note a dark look on her face. It was clear that she had thought a lot about what they were supposed to do after this. “Is this because of my father? Do you want me to show this to him in the hopes that he’ll grant you clemency?” Even the tone of her voice told him just how unlikely she found the possibility.

Lincoln scoffed. “He’s got too much to lose to care about the likes of me. I don’t want anything from you except for my little brother to be happy. I think that he might have started falling in love with you, and I want that for him.” He watched her for a moment, unsure how he should go on. “You know, I think he’ll be a pretty good dad. He was always better with LJ than I was. This will be hard on him, but he’ll be okay in time. You guys should get back together, do things properly.”

She stood there stunned. “I’m sorry. You want me to do what?”

“I want you to take care of Michael when I’m gone.”

The clarification did nothing to wipe the shocked expression off her face. Her eyes kept flicking down to the note she held clutched in her hand. “It’s complicated,” she finally managed to say.

He nodded. That was an understatement, he knew. Everything between Sara and Michael was complicated. But so was life in general. “Just promise me that you will try. I want my niece or nephew to have a good life and for the two of you to be happy.”

There was a knock on the door behind them. “Come in,” Sara shouted over her shoulder, quick to stow the letter he’d given her away.

Mack was standing on the other side of the door when it swung open. “They need you in the infirmary,” he said with a look at the doc.

“Tell them I’m on my way,” she said in return, her eyes never leaving Lincoln’s face. “We were just finishing up here.”

They both nodded at each other, lost for how this meeting was supposed to end. Was he going to see her again before the end? It was a question that he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Instead he merely let her walk out the door and possibly out of his life forever.

***

Michael walked through the security checkpoint for what was likely the last time. Every part of his body ached as he moved forward. He had been up all night reading over the information that Veronica had given him. None of it had made sense to him when he first glanced at it, but there was a feeling in the back of his mind that if he had only had access to any of the information in that file earlier, he could have saved his brother. Now it was too late to use any of the data that was hidden amongst the pages. There was a certain irrational anger at his brother for waiting until now to tell him all of this. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? It was a question that would plague him for the rest of his life.

The guard that was leading him along turned the corner, and Michael caught sight of Sara in the distance. Suddenly he felt like his stomach was made of lead. Seeing her had always been a mix of excitement and unease before, but now as he stood there watching her in the distance, he found that he did not want her to see him. All those times that she had warned him that he would hate her for her part in this he had struggled to believe her. There was no way that he could ever blame her. Was that because he had always believed that he would have saved Lincoln by this point? There would be no reason to hate her if the event in question never happened. But now they were here. He was about to spend the last hours of Lincoln’s life with him, and she had helped in her own way. Even as he thought it, he knew that it was irrational to be angry at her for something that was beyond her control. He had seen the news report, heard her words. She had no choice but to sign. He tried to remember that as she turned the corner out of view. It was difficult though. How was he supposed to have a relationship with her after this? The idea seemed so impossible all of a sudden. But he had no choice on that either. Somehow they would have to find a way. “Here we are,” the guard said, shaking Michael from his thoughts. “The two of you will be alone, and there is no way out of the room. We will not be able to see you. Are you okay with him not being in shackles?”

The question annoyed him. “He’s my brother,” he stated bluntly.

The guard looked unabashed as he shrugged. “We have to ask. Some guys get violent when the time comes, so it’s a liability issue.”

Michael merely stared at him. He didn’t want to be hearing any of this, and he especially did not want to be here. This wasn’t the way that it was supposed to go. He had Linc were supposed to be on a beach in Panama by now, drinking beers and joking about how close they had come to never seeing each other again. Now they really were seeing each other for the last time. Veronica had called to say that they were still waiting for the judge, but deep down Michael knew that it was too late. Lincoln was going to die, and there was nothing that he could do about it. With a sigh he walked through the door the guard held open for him.

Lincoln was standing by the window looking out. His head was completely shaved, a sight that caught him off guard. They had seen each other barely a week ago, but the shaved head was new. “Linc,” he said after watching his brother for a moment.

Lincoln turned to look at him. There was a bizarre look of peace on his face that Michael had never imagined that he would see there, especially under the circumstances. “I’m glad that you could come,” his brother said.

The words rolled off his tongue like he had almost expected that Michael wouldn’t show up to see him one last time. “Where else would I be?”

The question was met with silence. There were so many things that they could be saying, yet in the moment neither had the words. This was the end of the line. All their lives they had only had each other, and now Michael was going to be all alone. It was difficult to put a thought like that into words. How do you say I will miss you to someone that you never thought that you would have to miss? Instead all Michael could think to say was, “I saw Sara in the hall.”

Lincoln nodded, an odd look crossing his face. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She was too far away for her to see me.”

The tension eased in his brother’s shoulders. Was there something that he was afraid would happen if they spoke? He looked so conflicted all of a sudden. “I spoke to her earlier about the two of you. I hope that you guys can work it out. Do better for your kid than Lisa and I did for LJ at least.”

That wasn’t something that he wanted to talk about. They had such limited time together, and Michael didn’t want to spend it on Sara. Things were such a mess inside his mind that he wasn’t sure what he would say if he opened his mouth to speak, so he choose to say nothing. Lincoln appeared to understand his plight by the way he allowed the silence to swell between them again for the longest time.

Michael had no clue how long they just stood there staring at each other before Lincoln finally broke the silence. “Did you do what I asked?”

It took a moment before Michael realized what his brother was asking. The request had been hidden deep in the file with no explanation as to why it needed to be done. “I’m not really sure what that was about,” he admitted. “You know that some of that information might have gotten you out of here if you had thought to use it earlier.”

To his annoyance Lincoln shrugged. “I had my reasons. In a few months you’ll understand. Once you hold your kid for the first time you’ll realize that there isn’t anything that you aren’t willing to do for them, even lay down your life.”

Michael shook his head. He didn’t want to hear about Lincoln laying down his life for anyone. “What is the point of doing all of this now?”

There was a sudden spark in his brother’s eye. “We all have secrets Mike. And some secrets have power.” It almost looked like he was smiling as he spoke. “You did drop off what I gave you though?”

Michael nodded. For once he was the one in the dark while his brother did all the planning. Was this what Lincoln had felt like their whole lives? “I did. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

To his surprise Lincoln smiled broadly. “You’ll just have to wait and see how this goes. In case things don’t work out, remind Sara about the letter I gave her. If I die, that letter has to be delivered.”

His brother’s words caught him off guard. “What do you mean if you die?”

Lincoln smiled mischievously again. “Like I said, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Rather than making him feel better, the comment only made Michael frown. He didn’t want to wait anymore. If he had only been able to put his plan into motion, they wouldn’t be here now, waiting to see if whatever foolhardy plan Lincoln was cooking up would work or not. He opened his mouth to ask again what was going on when one of the guards entered. “Sorry to interrupt,” the man said. “There is an urgent phone call for you.”

At first Michael though that the guard was talking to him until he followed the man’s gaze to his brother. To his surprise he found that his brother was smiling faintly. He wondered what was going on inside his brother’s head. Was this what Lincoln had been expecting? “What’s going on?” he asked with a glance back at the guard.

“I don’t know. Someone is on the phone demanding to speak to your brother.” The way the guard said the words told him that was exactly what was caller was doing, demanding.

“I’ll be right back,” Lincoln said, pulling Michael from his thoughts. “Don’t worry little brother. You just have to have a little faith.”

As Michael watched his brother walked around him to stand in front of the guard and held his wrists out to be handcuffed. Whatever was going on didn’t seem to bother Lincoln at all, but Michael found it difficult to hide his concern. There was no telling how badly this could go if his brother didn’t know what he was doing. It was all Michael was able to think about as Lincoln was led away.

***

Lincoln tried to push the concerned look on Michael’s face out of his mind as he was led toward visitation where there was one of the only phones in the prison that took incoming calls. He needed to focus on what he was about to do. This was reckless, but everything he had ever done in his life had been reckless anyway. This was no different. And if it worked it would save his brother from the regret of his plans going awry. There were so many things that could go wrong with the plan though. The worries about how they would react were hard to push from his mind as they walked. “You have five minutes,” the guard said as they arrived.

With a sigh Lincoln picked up the phone. “Hello,” he said carefully.

To his surprise the guard shut the door, giving Lincoln some privacy as he waited for the man on the other end to speak. “We received your message,” the man said, “I was under the impression that we had an agreement Burrows.”

Suddenly Lincoln didn’t feel like smiling. “What can I say? My impending death has changed matters somewhat. If your boss wants to keep her secrets, we’ll need to come to a new arrangement.”

The man on the other end gritted his teeth so hard that Lincoln could hear it. “Have you also forgotten what we will do to your son if you talk?” the man asked once he had managed to get his temper in check.

That was a threat that he had been prepared for. “I have taken precautions on that front. Plus, I hardly think that something happening to my son would look good for her either. Things have been set into motion and only you have the power to stop it.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “What do you want Burrows?”

“The Vice President is going to find forgiveness in her heart. Turns out, she doesn’t want me executed after all. I will uphold my end to keep my mouth shut about what I’ve seen and heard, and in exchange, the evidence miraculous appears proving that I’m innocent. My lawyer has already found some of it, and I bet there is more.”

“We can always just kill you,” the man muttered.

“You could,” Lincoln said with a sigh, “but that is what fail safes are for. If I die, everything I know comes out, all the evidence showing that I was not quite in the right place at the right time to kill Terence Steadman along with it. And how will that look for your Vice President’s ambitions? And more importantly, what would it mean for you Kellerman? I imagine you’ve got ambitions of your own. It would be a pity if something were to upset them. All you have to do is stop leaning on the judge, let him review the tape. I’d get on that if I were you; you only have a few hours.” Before the man could respond he slammed the phone back down on the receiver. Now all he could do was wait for the phone call to come that might save him. There was a sudden coldness in his fingers as he considered what he had done. This could work, or it could get everybody killed.


	9. Epilogue: Two Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here it is, the last bit. It turned out to be a lot shorter than I planned, but I haven't had a lot of time to write this week because I'm working a lot of overtime. I do hope that you enjoy this though. Let me know what you think. I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to read this. Knowing that there were people out there that were waiting for the next bit has really kept me going when at times I was unsure about this. It really helped me to try and push through my moments of writer's block to get this finished for you, and I really do hope that you are satisfied with how this ends up.
> 
> I have a couple of stories that are not Prison Break related to work on next, but I do have plans to be back in the fandom writing more very soon. Maybe I will even write something else you guys enjoy.

Epilogue: Two Years Later

It was still dark outside the bedroom window when Sara found herself suddenly awake for no reason that she could immediately pinpoint. Her eyes immediately drifted closed again, the tiredness in her bones overruling the light kisses on her neck that had pulled her from sleep. She was right on the edge of falling back asleep when the body next to her shifted again, rolling until it was pressed more firmly against her own. Sara sighed softly as she was roused from near sleep. Now the kisses on her neck were distracting but nice all the same. “You’re up early,” she whispered.

Michael groaned in her ear, using his hips to show her that he was up in more ways than one. “You’re awake too,” he said defensively, as if he had not been the one to rouse her from sleep.

The feel of his hard cock against her body was arousing. It had been some time since she had been woken up this way, and it brought back memories of the days when it was just the two of them and they could do whatever they wanted and be as loud as they wanted all morning long. As much as she loved their lives the way they were, sometimes she missed the good old days. Did they even have time for this now? She glanced at the clock on the bedside table just to be sure. The last thing that she wanted was to get all worked up for nothing. Luckily the clock told her that they had an hour still before their son was likely to wake up. There was still an uneasiness about the concept though. What if she was wrong and he came down the hall looking for them earlier than usual? Barely two and already traumatized. She wondered vaguely if she would be a bad mother if she suggested that they lock the door. But Michael was too busy pulling her body more tightly against his own for her to do much more than wonder about the possibility. Having his pressed up against her was very distracting too. A soft moan fell from her lips as she flicked her hips back against his hard cock. Maybe they could be quick. Though she didn’t want it quick, at least it would be something. “What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

He groaned into her ear again. “Can’t have what I’m thinking,” he said. “We’d have to go away some weekend for that.”

Though he hadn’t directly expressed what he was thinking, the idea excited her. The things they could do with a weekend away chased themselves through her mind and suddenly the arousal she was beginning to feel was more than just faintly there. “Unless you plan to tease me to death, I suggest you start putting your hands in much more enjoyable places.”

Even as she spoke his hand slid under her shirt to cup one of her breasts. Her muscles reacted sluggishly, arching into his touch belatedly. She gasped softly as his fingers pinched her nipple sharply. The sparks the act sent through her body roused her tried muscles to wakefulness bit by bit. This truly was the best way to wake up. “You’re insufferable,” she whispered with a smile.

He ran a thumb across her nipple. The friction sent even more sparks all the way down to her toes. She hated that her body was reacting to his ministrations like this, but it had been so long since they had had much time together to do more than the most basic acts. If they had an hour where exhaustion wasn’t overruling their every moment, there were countless things she would love for him to make her feel, so when he slid his hand lower she parted her legs for him. “We’ll have to be quiet,” she reminded him, though she was usually the one that needed to be told.

He hummed softly as his hand slid into her underwear. Without preamble two of his fingers slid inside of her. The sensation of being filled had her already questioning her admonishment that they would need to be quiet. She rubbed her ass against him as his fingers curled inside of her. They slowly found a steady rhythm, her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers. The friction on his cock had him groaning in her ear. “I need to be inside of you,” he whispered urgently.

With that his hand was gone, much to her dismay. She was almost there and gave an annoying grunt that he was denying her a much needed orgasm. There was scarcely time to protest the emptiness before he was rolling her onto her back and pulling her underwear down her legs. “What do you want?” he asked her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. His fingers had slid between her thighs again to brush along her wet folds. “Do you want me to use my fingers, or do you want my tongue?” She moaned softly at the thought of his mouth on her. “You’d like that, huh? I’d like that too; you taste so good.” He smiled down at her playfully as his fingers dipped into her again. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to tease you all morning long.” The words came out wistfully, a regret hidden beneath. Apparently she was not the only one that wasn’t getting the full extent of what she wanted from this. “Another time perhaps.”

She spread her legs wider to give him room to crawl between her thighs. If they weren’t going to be able to do much at least she wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to get off around his cock. He didn’t make her wait long, his cock rubbing along her folds as he reached up to pin her arms above her head. Sara groaned softly as he slid into her. She knew that they had to be quiet, but it was so hard when Michael was doing things to her that made her want to be loud. This always had been her favorite way to wake up. It had been entirely too long since they had done this. She groaned again, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You’re going to wake up the kid,” he warned her playfully.

She strained against the hand that was pinning her arms down so she could smack him. The effort was futile but it made him laugh. “Now who’s being loud,” she said with a particularly hard roll of her hips.

The comment only made him laugh more. He was so insufferable sometimes. At times like this she wondered why she had ever thought that it was a good idea to marry him, but then he drove his cock into her just right and her reasons suddenly came back to her. “I only hate you sometimes,” she whispered, much to his amusement. It was nice just how well they knew each other that she didn’t need to explain her train of thought on that one.

His hips rolled against hers carefully, enough to drive her crazy but not enough to tip her over the edge. The slow methodical pace was torture, but she knew that it would be worth it in the end. It was always worth it in the end. Her breaths came out as soft gasps. She missed the days when she could tell him exactly how much she enjoyed what he was doing to her body sometimes, but more often than not there was an excitement in these stolen moments together, almost like sneaking around. Without meaning to she glanced at the clock on their bedside table. It was later than she had thought. “Your son will be up soon,” she said, pointedly rolling her hips a little faster.

“My son, huh?” he teased though he let her speed them up all the same.

“Yes. If he interrupts us having sex he is your son. Those are the rules.”

He laughed from somewhere deep in his chest. At times like this she remembered why she had married him after all. It wasn’t just the things that he could do to her between the sheets but the way he made her smile even on the bad days. Lazy early morning orgasms were merely a bonus she was more than happy to receive. She would like one of those orgasms now. The thought had barely crossed her mind before he was reaching between them to rub her clit with his thumb. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to mask her moan. She was so close now, just a few more strokes and he would be able to push her over. “Definitely need to do this more often,” she whispered to him as her muscles milked his cock.

He chuckled softly. “But it requires getting up so early,” he teased, like fucking her was a chore. The way he rolled his hips into hers hard told a completely different story. Getting up early for this would be worth it. “Shit,” he groaned.

Her walls were gripping him tightly. “That’s it baby,” she said, eager for the glorious release she knew he could give her.

A soft moan fell from her lips as he did just that, the thumb against her clit helping to tip her over the edge. He had to capture her lips in a kiss to swallow the louder moans she was likely to give as her peak hit her. Every part of her felt like it was on fire as the aftershocks rolled through her. His thrusts were uneven, erratic. Despite the tiredness in her limbs she worked to meet his hips, wanting more than anything to get him off too. His breath was uneven as well as he pulled away. There was a look of concentration on his face that was adorable as he tried to stay in the moment. And then just like that the dam broke. She groaned softly as she felt him come inside of her. The sensation was still new enough to be thrilling, a reckless novelty she never thought she’d have with him.

He pulled out of her with a groan and collapsed on the bed beside her. She rolled over to watch him struggle to catch his breath, her thoughts still hung up on his come inside of her. Would she get pregnant again? That was why they were doing this, right? That they’d like to have more at some point so they might as well try now. It could take months, another year even, before it might happen and in the meantime… The thought forced a soft moan from deep within her chest. “What are you thinking about over there?”

“Nothing,” she said with a smile, “just that I wish we had time for us to go again.”

He leaned on an elbow to see the clock over her shoulder. The groan he gave in response told her that it was much later than even she had imagined. “We should probably shower.” He glanced over at her suggestively for a moment. “Separately. Unless you’re willing to be late.”

The thought was tempting, but Sara knew that they needed to be there promptly. This was an important day, and it would not do to show anything short of complete and utter support. “I think you’re right. We should definitely shower separately.”

He laughed again, one of those deep belly laughs that always made her smile. It was hard not to regret her choice as he crawled out of their bed naked and walked to the adjoining bathroom. They could have a lot of fun in the shower until the water ran cold, but there were things that were more important. So despite how easy it would be to go and join him, she rose from the bed and began to make it. They would have more time later for all the things the two of them had planned. Maybe they would even get that weekend away at some point. The thought made her smile.

***

The park was loud when they arrived, the world around them a mess of action. Just two years ago this hadn’t been here at all, and now it was flooded with people for the official unveiling. Sara glanced over at Michael to see if he was noticeably excited for this day to finally be here, but he seemed more distracted with scanning the crowd. Of course he’d be concerned. This was a huge public event, something that usually would have been avoided, but this was also a big day for Michael, the culmination of over two years of work to revamp the downtown area. Everyone wanted to support him. The soft sigh that he gave as his eyes finished scanning the crowd told her that he hadn’t found who he was looking for. “I’m sure he’ll be here,” she whispered, a hand coming up to rub his back. Her husband did not relax under her touch but she understood. This wasn’t going to be the easiest day for any of them.

She did her own scan of the crowd, and almost immediately caught sight of her father surrounded by his usual gaggle of cronies. He looked in his element playing the hometown hero, and Sara was anxious to avoid him for as long as possible. If she could manage to spend as little time with him as possible it would be a small miracle, but she was determined to keep from his notice for as long as possible. Unfortunately Bruce caught sight of them at the same time and leaned down to whisper in her father’s ear. From afar it looked like Frank Tancredi nodded, but he made no move to join them or wave her over. That was a small miracle in and of itself. “Do you need to find the others?” she asked Michael, hoping that there was somewhere they could be.

He was still scanning the crowd and didn’t appear to take notice of her words. She sighed softly and followed where his gaze. In the distance, close to where her father stood was a familiar form. He was also surrounded by people. Though she couldn’t see his face, she could guess how he felt about the attention. “We should go recue him,” she whispered to her husband.

The look on his face was worried as he stared in the distance. Instead of waiting for him to answer she adjusted the kid on her hip and walked over toward the cause of the commotion. “Lincoln,” she said once she was close enough for him to hear her.

He turned to look at her gratefully. “I was starting to think you two weren’t coming.” He immediately crushed her in a hug, and when they pulled away he was smiling broadly. “Where’s Mike?”

Sara glanced over her shoulder to see her husband standing exactly where she left him. “I think he’s a little nervous about this. He kept saying that you really didn’t need to come the whole way over. You know that he would have understood if you hadn’t, right?”

Lincoln nodded but there was a determination in the set of his jaw that reminded her of all the days she had spent talking to him in his cell. He wouldn’t have missed this for the world. She turned back and took in the group that was assembled around him, surprised to find Veronica among them. That was something that she would need to interrogate him about later. There was also a blond woman that she had seen before but never properly met. She was standing about as far away from Veronica as possible, Lincoln’s son LJ acting as a barrier between them. Though they hadn’t been introduced, Sara guessed that this must be Lisa. “Hello,” she said, trying to be pleasant. “I’m Sara, Michael’s wife.”

The woman nodded but didn’t have time to respond before Michael finally joined them. “We all here?” he asked absently, his eyes scanning the small crowd.

“I guess so,” Lincoln replied. “You should look more excited little brother. This is all about you.”

Michael nodded but didn’t look any more ready for what was to come. “I should go find the others,” he finally said with a glance at Sara.

The message was clear, he needed her to stay and make sure his brother didn’t get into any trouble. She nodded to show him that she had understood and brushed her hand across his back briefly before he walked away. It wasn’t an easy task but one she had expected. Lincoln hadn’t exactly been without trouble since he had been released a year before. Not that it was completely his fault. It was just hard for some people to accept that he had be retried and found not guilty after all. Sometimes that caused problems but they always got through it. They were a family after all. And there was nothing more important than family.


End file.
